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IVI IMJIM I f a I Hill Hill f

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JINNAH

PAKISTAN

Stanley Wolpert

Naw York Oxford

OXFOUI) UNIVERSITY I'lUiSS
1084

Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

Wolpert, Stanley A., 1927-
Jinnah of Pakistan.

1. Jinnah, Mahomed Ali, 1876-1948. 2. Statesmen—
Pakistan—Biography. I. Title.

DS385.J5W64 1984 954.9'042'0924 [B] 83-13318

ISBN 0-19-503412-0

Printing (last digit): 987654321
Printed in the United States of America

for

Dorothy
with love

Preface

l • " Individuals significantly alter the course of history. Fewer still modify
l In' nin|) of the world. Hardly anyone can be credited with creating a
Million state. Mohammad Ali Jinnah did all three. Hailed as “Great Leader”
i {Unlit14-Azam) of Pakistan and its first governor-general, Jinnah virtually

• "ii|ureel that country into statehood by the force of his indomitable will,
lit. |ilner of primacy in Pakistan’s history looms like a lofty minaret over
tin achievements of all his contemporaries in the Muslim League. Yet Jin-
m ili begun his political career as a leader of India’s National Congress and
'mill ul lor World War I remained India’s best “Ambassador of Hindu-
Miihllin Unity.” As enigmatic a figure as Mahatma Gandhi, more powerful
'h m I'audit Nehru, Quaid-i-Azam Jinnah was one of recent history’s most

• linthinulie leaders and least known personalities. For more than a quarter

• eiilni'N I have been intrigued by the apparent paradox of Jinnah’s strange
Inn . which has to date never been told in all the fascinating complexity of
n lallliuiil light and tragic darkness.

Minis people have helped make this book possible. To the late Lord Louis
Mmiiillmtlen I am indebted for his having so generously given me a morn-
Ini 1 In I lie lust year of his life to recall personal meetings with and impres-
nl |Inmili. To Begum Liaquat Ali Khan I am equally indebted for her
jm in Imis hospitality and assistance in Karachi. Professor Z. PI. Zaidi of Lon-
il"ii • hilveisily most warmly encouraged me to write this book more than a
h nil ugo and helped in many ways; he shared his Jinnah letters with me,
""I he, own eogoitl urlieles, und introduced me to his old friend and one of
1 11 m hI»•* rliWNt colleagues, Mr, M, A, II. Ispahan!, who was still living in
I imhIimi (hen, Vlee-( llmnoollor Sir Cyril Henry Philips of London Univer-
-II' Mildly unsInIciI me during the curly Nluges of my long search for Jinnah,

PREFACE

I lili I M III',

viii

My dear friend, the late Professor B. N. Pandey of London, helped by in¬
viting me to participate in his “Leadership in South Asia” seminar in 1974.
Warmest thanks to my mentor. Professor Holden Furber, for inspiration
and generous criticism.

Professor Sharif al Mujahid, the director of the Quaid-i-Azam Academy
in Karachi, was most generous in assisting me during my visit to Pakistan
in 1980 as a Fellow of the American Institute of Pakistan Studies. I thank
him and AIPS Director Professor Hafeez Malik for all of their invaluable
help. I gratefully acknowledge the aid provided by the AIPS and its board
in awarding me a fellowship to complete my research in Pakistan. My sin¬
cere thanks also to Dr. Charles Boewe, Mr. Arshad, Mr. Afaqi, and Akbar,
of the United States Educational Foundation in Islamabad for their kind
hospitality.

Dr. A. Z. Sheikh, the director of the National Archives of Pakistan, and
his fine staff were most cooperative in opening the full resources of their
archives to me during my visit to Islamabad. I am especially grateful to
Mr. S. M. Ikram, the microfilming and photostating officer of the NAP, for
expediting the filming of Jinnah papers for me. Vice-President Khalid
Shamsul Hasan of the National Bank of Pakistan in Karachi was most help¬
ful in granting me full and immediate access in his office and home to the
excellent Shamsul Hasan Collection of primary Jinnah papers. I am deeply
grateful to him, and to Dr. M. H. Siddiqi, the director of the University of
Karachi’s Freedom Movement archives, who introduced me to his very im¬
pressive collection.

My continuing gratitude and appreciation to the librarian and staff of
the excellent India Office Library in London, with special thanks to Deputy
Archivist Martin Moir and to Dr. Richard Bingle, both of whom were sin¬
gularly helpful in steering me toward new material. For this book I have
interviewed a great number of Jinnah’s colleagues and contemporaries in
Pakistan, India, and Great Britain, as well as in the United States, over the
past fifteen years; and although there is not space to mention each by name,
I wish to thank them all for helping me to better understand this singularly
secretive and complex man.

To the Rt. Hon. S. S. Pirzada, the minister of law of Pakistan and chair¬
man of the Quaid-i-Azam Biography Committee, my sincere thanks for
sharing with me his personal memories and writings on the Quaid-i-Azam.
To Admiral S. M. Ahsan I am most warmly indebted for historic insights
and generous hospitality. My grateful appreciation also to Mian Mumtaz
Daultana, Sardar Shaukat Hnyat. justice Jtivid Iqbal, brig. N. A. Husain,
former Chief Minister of Sind Murntaz Ali llhiillo, former Karachi Mayor
Ilashltn Haza, and former Ambassador Moliaiiimad Masoor, lor many help
I'll] Insights concerning Jinnah',s personality.

1 n I ,aily Dhanavati Rama Rao, Srimati Pupal Jayakar, and Srimati Sheela
I al I a 1 inn deeply indebted for singularly sensitive keys to the character not
mils ill Jinnah, but of his wife and daughter as well. I thank Ved Mehta
l"i Inning with me his father’s memory of Jinnah. I am most thankful to
I'oili NNor Fuzlur Rahman for recalling all that he did about Jinnah, and to
I'nliessiir Khalid Bin Sayeed for his help. Many colleagues and students
al the I hiivorsity of California have helped me stay the course in this long

• in h. mid 1 especially thank Professors Damodar Sar Desai, Nikki Keddie,

|h1 111 \ Galbraith, H. Arthur Steiner, Steven Hay, Peter Loewenberg, and

l ..1 I'oonawala. For the past decade and a half, my seminar students

hnv i' posed useful questions about Jinnah, each stimulating deeper investi-
iiiitliiii Into his life and motivations; and for this I especially thank Ravi
I' .illii |iiini Cole, Roger Long, Anand Mavalankar, David Kessler, Sasha
|oim.iI. Nusir Khan, Rajan Samtani, and Professor Saleem Ahmad,

I spoke many times by phone with Jinnah’s only daughter, Mrs. Dina
Wmllii In 1980 1 was to have interviewed her at her Madison Avenue
qiiitlMtcnl in Manhattan, but unfortunately, perhaps because of her acute

• In in ’.‘i or illness, the meeting was canceled at the last moment. One ques-
iInn In .riked in a conversation has often echoed in my memory as illustra¬
te • ill I heir relationship, “Why so much interest in my father’s life, after all
llitum vein's?" Mrs. Wadia’s only son, Nusli, was unavailable to meet with
mi. iii Mi mil my, both in 1978 and in 1982, but he did write: “My grand-
I ill hi i died when I was four. . . . My memory of him is vague indeed.”

n Ii >i Inlher was equally elusive, writing from Switzerland in 1982 to in-
hiini me I lint "As Mr. Jinnah disapproved of my marriage to his daughter

.1 11 -Inns grounds [Wadia was born a Parsi and converted to Christian-

n | I nmw very little of him & therefore regret I cannot help. . . . My
ditngliler was too young to remember him & saw little of him so there would
In mi me Iii contacting her.” In 1980, Jinnah’s last surviving sister was bed-
iiddiiu Iii Karachi; I was unable to see her, and she died shortly after my
vl*ll I here,

I lLink my editor, Nancy Lane, and my copy editor, Kathy Antrim, for
lln n help In bringing this book to press, and I thank Kate Wittenberg as

>11 1 h I aye Fuuman, who typed the manuscript, and to my friend Elaine
'iii,. w Ini no kindly photographed me, heartfelt thanks.

As lor my dearest wife, who lias nurtured, sustained, and inspired me
..id i ii\ works Ilironghoul the past thirty years, I confess that no good thing
I h.i'i ivi i doin' or written would Imve been possible without her co-
Hiillimship.

I io

'ufh'iniwi him

s. w.

Contents

1 Karachi 3

2 Bombay (1896-1910) 16

3 Calcutta (1910-15) 32

4 Lucknow to Bombay (1916-18) 42

5 Amritsar to Nagpur (1919-21) 61

6 Retreat to Bombay (1921-24) 73

7 New Delhi (1924-28) 80

8 Calcutta (1928) 92

9 Simla (1929-30) 103
10 London (1930-33) 119

11 London-Lucknow (1934-37) 134

12 Toward Lahore (1938-40) 155

13 Lahore to Delhi (1940-42) 184

14 Dawn in Delhi (1942-43 ) 204

15 knruehj ami Bombay Revisited (1943-44 ) 221

10 Simla (1944-45) 237

17 (.tuclln mu! IVslmwnr (1945-40) 247

Xll

CONTENTS

18 Simla Revisted (1946 ) 261
19 Bombay to London (1946) 280
20 London—Final Farewell (1946) 297
21 New Delhi (1947 ) 306
22 Karachi—“Pakistan Zindabad” (1947 ) 332
23 Ziarat (1948) 355
Notes 373
Bibliography 403
Index 415

WKST PAKISTAN from 1947-71

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

EAST PAKISTAN from 1947-71

Karachi

Iim l« hi Iiiii i i-.tc rs, and benchers rushing in and out of Lincoln’s Inn nowa-
i. i a. I- j;Iniice at the oil painting, hung since July 1965, on the stone wall

.ill. mint iicc to their Great Hall and Library in London. Those who do

mu .uni. i why on earth the gaunt, unsmiling face of “M. A. Jinnah,

t I> i i • 111 1 lii-.i (i over nor-General of Pakistan” should be staring down at

Mu »n I .ill 1 1 1 Iti. monocled, astrakhan-capped, the portrait’s subject was, so
ill* .11111 u| liias 1 . secured to its frame attests, ‘born 25 December 1876 and
.In .1 ll '.I |.!.'inlu-r 1948." Nothing more is revealed of M. A. Jinnah’s history.

11|( iiiiihi\ iiioiis nit 1st captured his upright, unbending spirit, as well as his

lm|.U.' Iuslc In clothes, yet Jinnah’s face is almost as enigmatic and spare

m» Hi. diiniii)- In ns,s plate beneath. His eyes, opened wide, are piercing; his
i i< in 1 11 L . l.r,i d, formidable. One would guess that he was a man of few
(H ill imn easily thwarted or defeated. But why is he there-in so honored
■ pl.o i 1 1 in t I in Mowed wall of British jurisprudence?

Vi iihh ilu Ilnicworn stairs of stone that supported Queen Victoria and
Hi i liiji .ll I. rilliairngc when she came to dedicate that Great Hall and oak-

i ..II ... lii 1845 arc two portraits of Englishmen who obviously do

l i. ... Mi \\ llllniii Henry Manic was baron of the Exchequer, a judge of

Hi i ..mi I'l. ns, nml ii bencher, one of four officers elected to administer

i in 4.i Inn I,i>mI Arthur llobhouso was legal member of the Executive
i mi il "I hull,i Viceroy in 1875, the year Prime Minister Benjamin Dis-
|,l li p* i .iin i h i I Oiioen Vieloriu to add "Empress of India” to her regalia.

I .Id. bihls IIiiiiK M. A, Jl.ill’s portrait, like horseguards, their un-

lilml ini< mii, Mining ahead. These also seem appropriate to the setting, for
mi i I mil Miicniighlen, who was "Lord of Appeal in Ordinary” and not
n In min i hut IrniMiier. while the oilier lmmnrlall/,es Sir Erancls Horny

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

Goldsmit, “First Jewish Barrister,” bencher and member of Parliament.
Jinnah, however, held no office at Lincoln’s Inn, nor was he ever elected to
Parliament or appointed to preside over any British court, nor did he even
serve on the cabinet of a single British viceroy.

Yet the story of Jinnah’s unique achievement was so inextricably the
product of his genius as a barrister, perhaps the greatest “native” advocate
in British Indian history, that his portrait richly deserves the place of high
honor it holds. During the last decade of his life, in fact, Jinnah may have
been the shrewdest barrister in the British Empire. He was certainly the
most tenacious. He crossed swords with at least as many great British-born
as Indian barristers, defeating them all in his single-minded pleas for Paki¬
stan. He burned out his life pressing a single suit, yet by winning his case he
changed the map of South Asia and altered the course of world history.

Jinnah (in Arabic, “wing” as of a bird or army) was horn a Shi’ite Muslim
Khoja ( Khwaja, “noble”). Disciples of the Isma’ili 1 Aga Khan, thousands of
Khojas fled Persian persecution to Western India, among other regions, be¬
tween the tenth and sixteenth centuries. The exact date of the flight of
Jinnah’s ancestors is unknown, but as a minority community within Islam,
itself a religious minority in India, the Khojas of South Asia remained doubly
conscious of their separateness and cultural difference, helping perhaps to
account for the “aloofness” so often noted as a characteristic quality of Jin¬
nah and his family. Khojas, like other mercantile communities the world over,
however, traveled extensively, were quick to assimilate new ideas, and ad¬
justed with relative ease to strange environments. They developed linguistic
skills and sharp intelligence, often acquiring considerable wealth. Mahatma
Gandhi’s Hindu merchant (bania) family, by remarkable coincidence,
settled barely thirty miles to the north of Jinnah’s grandparents, in the state
of Rajkot. Thus the parents of the Fathers of both India and Pakistan shared
a single mother tongue, Gujarati, though that never helped their brilliant
offspring to communicate.

Jinnah’s father Jinnahbhai Poonja (born c. 1850), the youngest of three
sons, married Mithibai, “a good girl” of his own community, 2 and soon
moved with his bride to Sind’s growing port of Karachi to seek his fortune.
After completion of the Suez Canal in 1869, Karachi enjoyed its first modern
boom as British India’s closest port, only 5,918 nautical miles from South¬
ampton, two hundred miles nearer than Bombay. The population was as yet
under 50,000, a far cry from tlx* more than 0 million who inhabit that pre¬
mier city of Pakistan today, hut enlerpxjNliig young people, like Jinnahbhai
and Mlllilbal, Hocked to Its immk'lptlllly’N ... lieiirl, pulNiitliig along

!> \ IIA CHI

I "'Hi banks of the Lyaree River. There Jinnahbhai rented the second floor
«i|>m tinont of a three-story house, Wazir Mansion (since rebuilt and made
Into a nutional monument and museum), in the bustling cotton mart on
Nmv nliam Road still cluttered with camels and laden with bales of raw
nut Ion.

11 ere sometime in the 1870’s Mohammad Ali Jinnah was the first of seven
• lilldren born to Mithibai and her husband. 3 Certificates of birth and death
were not issued by Karachi’s municipality prior to 1879, and though Jinnah
m Inter life would claim December 25, 1876, as his true date of birth, the
hlilhdiiy officially celebrated throughout Pakistan, there is reason to doubt
IU accuracy. Unlike Hindus of comparable wealth and social status, who
* mi Id have been careful to record the precise date and moment of a child’s
I'lllli for astrological purposes, Muslims generally did not concern them-
m Ivt'M with birthdates and no records were kept prior to their enrollment in
i |mlillt? school. The register preserved at the first such school Jinnah at-

.I''I. the Sind Madressa-tul-Islam of Karachi, notes October 20, 1875, as

it" I'll lli date of “Mahomedali Jinnahbhai.” 4

At birth, in fact, “Mamad” (his pet name at home) was “small and
■ 'I his devoted sister Fatima (July 31, 1893-July 9, 1967) recalled. “His
I>• ult1 1 cruised concern as he weighed a few pounds less than normal.” 5
Mui"ii(I was approximately six when his father hired a private tutor to start
hi-' on on alphabets and mathematics, but the boy proved “indifferent” to
•'"I" v "positively loathed” arithmetic, and could not wait to go outdoors
*ih "<m iis liis tutor arrived. Those private lessons were one indicator of how
|(iiiinlililiai Poonja’s business had prospered by the early 1880’s. The annual
1 'line nl Karachi’s trade almost doubled since he had arrived scarcely a
'!• ■ iidc curlier, climbing to above 80 million rupees. Jinnahbhai handled all
"i i "I produce, cotton, wool, hides, oil-seeds, and grain for export, and
I "" lirsler manufactured piece-goods, metals, and refined sugar imports
lul" i he busy port. Business was so good, in fact, with profits soaring so high,
llint lie became a “banker and money-lender” as well for his customers,
i •' piir P.Iuiii’n prohibition against lending or borrowing money at interest,
li'inl in)* was clearly how Jinnahbhai made his fortune, and subsequently
lunl II

I >ii ly in 1887, jinnahbhai’s only sister, Manbai, who had married an even
mini 'uiecc.Nsliil Khoja named Peerbhai and lived in metropolitan Bombay,

.. In vInII. Mamad loved Auntie’s witty, vivacious, cosmopolitan good

l"iui"i, mid she in turn adored her bright, handsome young nephew. “Night
.lici ulglil. I'utliim remembered, Manbai told them "wonderful tales of
bill b . 'Hid the living carpel; of //ii.v and dragons." She lured Mamad back to
Mnml'iiv wllb her (lull year, Introducing him l" the great city that was to

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

become his chosen home most of his adult life. Even as provincial Karachi s
commercial houses clung in those days “to Bombay as the ivy clings to the
oak/’ 6 Jinnah followed his Aunt Manbai, who must have symbolized for him
the beauty, glamor, and endless fascination of that presidency capital.

Little is known of Mamad’s life in Bombay during his first tantalizingly
brief visit to the big city, as far advanced culturally from Karachi as the
latter was from Paneli village. He lived with Auntie and was enrolled at
school, but whether it was at the Muslim Anjuman-i-Islam as Fatima re¬
called, or in the secular Gokul Das Tej Primary School as his secretary, Mr.
M. H. Sayyid, reported, 7 remains uncertain. Perhaps he attended both
schools, joining the latter after quitting the former.

Young Jinnah’s tolerance for formal education was never high. Sitting at
home, learning things by rote, was bad enough. It is not hard to imagine
that spirited young brain rebelling inside a typical Indian primary school
classroom. Especially in Bombay. India’s most beautiful port was adorned
with crescent beaches of white sand topped by lofty palisades sprouting
royal palms. The usually placid sparkling waters of Back Bay were dotted
with sugar-loaf islands. In spacious covered bazaars like Crawford Market,
Englishmen and their ladies strolled amid the world’s riches, all on display,
all for sale. Round the Maiden and Oval, the high court, and the university
he must have gaped in awe at the Victorian gothic monuments to all that the
British raj and its modernization brought to India. Elphinstone Circle and
the town hall, the imperial bank, and chamber of commerce building were
doubtless included in the many carriage tours Auntie arranged for her young
visitor’s delight on their holidays. Had he rusticated in Karachi for another
decade before visiting Bombay, Jinnah might well have been persuaded
simply to follow in his father’s footsteps, content with inheriting the boom¬
ing provincial business of Jinnahbhai Poonja and Company. But having seen
Bombay he would never forget it, and though he went back to Karachi after
little more than six months, it was hardly out of boredom with his new en¬
vironment.

His mother, Fatima noted, “had been miserable” without her “darling
son.” Mamad enrolled in the Sind Madressa on December 23, 1887, but a
few years later his name was “withdrawn” from the roster because of “long
absence.” 8 He enjoyed riding his father’s Arabian horses more than doing
arithmetic, and he cut classes regularly with his friend, Karim Kassim, to
gallop off on “adventures” across Sind’s barren sands. Mamad loved horses,
as he did “minarets and domes.” He liked reading poetry, too, but at his own
pace and leisure, not harnessed to any Karachi pedagogue’s lesson plan.
Jinnah was never intimidated by authority, nor was he easy to control, even
us n child, His parenlN sent him to Ivunwhl's exclusive < Ihrlutlun Mission High

l Ml M III

liinil on Lawrence Road, close to home, in the hope that that might prove
•i inure congenial stimulus for his restless mind, tie stayed only a few
mm il I in. however, and perhaps the legacy of that Mission school was to stim¬
uli! ir his interest in and attraction to the importance of December 25.

,l ' Ibusiness was good enough for Jinnahbhai Poonja to buy his own

i diIt -, and several “handsome carriages.” His firm was closely associated
" il h I lie lending British managing agency in Karachi, Douglas Graham and
' "iiipiinv. Sir Frederick Leigh Croft, Graham’s general manager may have
inln i Hid his job with his baronetcy. Sir Frederick’s influence on Jinnah’s
hii was, indeed, so significant that it is unfortunate so little is known of
him \ kinswoman” remembered Croft, thirty-two at the time, as a
b " I" loi mid "something of a dandy, with a freshly picked carnation in his
hul 1 1 ml idle each morning; a recluse and a wit, uncomfortable in the presence
"I • hllilien, whom he did not like.” 9 And a decade later, this thumbnail de-
i 11 pi mu might also suffice for his provincial apprentice, though instead of
ll*< • m Million, Jinnah chose a monocle, borrowed from another of his British
"mih I. til high style, Joseph Chamberlain. Sir Frederick obviously liked
H uni 11 1, 11 linking highly enough of his potential to recommend the young

. . hu .in apprenticeship to his home office in London in 1892. That single

I' Mm i" I midon lifted young Jinnah from provincial obscurity into the orbit
"i I'lill'ih imperial prominence, accessible at that time to fewer than one in

• mIlllini Indians. Paradoxically, Karachi proved a far better launching pad

11 1 m in h s career than Bombay would have been, since there were hun-

• h • * hi i II mil thousands) of young men in Bombay at least as well con-
m i led II not as bright as Jinnah, all of whose parents doubtless tried to

• mo lime nmii like Croft there to do as much for their sons. Karachi, how-
1 ii h.ul only one Jinnah.

\\ hen his mother learned of her favorite child’s latest travel plans, she

• 11* d mil hlllerly against the trip. Bombay with Auntie had been far enough,

""I .. too long a separation. Now London? Alone and for two years at

I' "*'•/ I n In i il was out of the question, impossible, and intolerable—perhaps
*mImINoii (old her she would never see him again. Her tears, imprecations,
“id .ii guiimills continued for weeks, but Jinnah had made up his mind. His
mollii i could not change it. Finally, “after much persuasion,” she sur-
" mil n il consenting on one condition. “England,” she said, “was a dan-

. eoiinln In scud an unmarried and handsome young man like her

«m Minim English girl might lure him into marriage and that would be a

..I\ lor Ihc j1 111111 1 1 Poonja family." 1 " He protested at first, yet saw how

... il tiicanl to her and finally "behaved like an obedient son,” accepting

!•'i mi i miged mini Inge ns llm price ul his passage In England. Ills mother
l"'md .I Millulilc Khoja girl In I'nimll village, lourleen veai'-ohl Emlbnl, "a

g JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

good girl,” as she herself had been. The matchmakers and parents decided
everything for Jinnah and his bride, even as young Gandhis parents had
done a few years before, the way countless other teenage Indian couples
were married in the nineteenth century.

“Mohammad Ali was hardly sixteen and had never seen the girl he was
to marry,” Fatima reported of the wedding. “Decked from head to foot in
long flowing garlands of flowers, he walked in a procession from his grand¬
father’s house to that of his father-in-law, where his fourteen year old bride,
Emi Bai, sat in an expensive bridal dress, wearing glittering ornaments, her
hands spotted with henna, her face spotted with gold dust and redolent with
the fragrance of attar.” 11 How did young Jinnah feel about this stranger
child bride? He really had no time in which to learn much about her. Only
days after their marriage he sailed out of her life, never to see her again.
Long before Jinnah would return from London, Emibai, like his mother, was
dead.

In January 1893, Jinnah left for England, “unaccompanied and unchap¬
eroned,” aboard a Pacific & Orient steamship. During that sea voyage he was
befriended by an “elderly Englishman,” who “took to him like his own son,
giving young Jinnah his London address when he disembarked at Marseilles.
“During the next four years, whenever this Englishman came back to his
native land from India he would call my brother to his house and ask him
to have a meal with him and his family,” recounted Fatima. 12 Mohammad
Ali landed at Southampton, catching the boat train to Victoria Station. “Dur¬
ing the first few months I found a strange country and unfamiliar surround¬
ings,” he recalled. “I did not know a soul and the fogs and winter in London
upset me a great deal.” 13 At Graham’s he sat at a small desk surrounded by
stacks of account books he was expected to copy and balance. The agency’s
head office was in the City of London near Threadneedle Street, a short
walk from historic Guildhall, the Bank of England, and the old East India
Company’s original headquarters along the River Thames on Leadenhall
Street. Jinnah kept no diary and wrote no autobiography, as did Gandhi and
Nehru, yet he must have felt at once elated and depressed to find himself in
the cold, remote, inspiring heart of the mighty empire into which he had
been born. “I was young and lonely. Far from home. . . . Except for some
employees at Grahams, I did not know a soul, and the immensity of London
as a city weighed heavily on my solitary life. . . But I soon got settled to
life in London, and I began to like it before long. 14

His father deposited money enough to his account in a British bank to
allow Jinnah to live in London lor three years. There is no record of pre¬
cisely how many hold rooms or "bed and break!ast slops ho rented befoio
moving Into the nauh-Nl lliree story house at 35 IkiSNoll Bond in Kensington

KARACHI

that now displays the County Council’s blue and white ceramic oval show¬
ing that the "founder of Pakistan stayed here in 1895.” Now rather run-down,
that block of attached buildings must have looked quite fashionable in
Jinnah’s day. The flat he lived in was owned by Mrs. F. E. Page-Drake, a
widow with “an attractive daughter who was about the same age” as Mo¬
hammad Ali and “liked my brother.” Perhaps to reassure herself, the spinster
I'utima added, “but he was not the flirtatious type and she could not break
through his reserve.” 15 “She would sometimes arrange mixed parties in her
mother’s house, and among the various games she would organise was one
in which the penalty for a fault was a kiss. Mohammad Ali always counted
hlrnself out of this kissing game. ‘One Christmas Eve,’ he recalled, ‘Miss
I'age-Drake threw her arms around me as I was standing under some mistle¬
toe, the significance of which I did not then know, and said that I must kiss
her. I told gently that we too had our social rules and the mistletoe kiss was
iml one of them. She let me go and did not bother me again in this man¬
ner.' ” 16 Most puzzling perhaps about so innocuous an incident is why Miss
jinnah should have considered it important enough to report in detail. Was
II simply a prudish sister’s way of embellishing the historic record to keep
her great brothers image immaculate?

Jinnah anglicized his name in London, replacing the cumbersome Mo-
linn lined Ali Jinnahbhai of Karachi with its streamlined British version,
M, A. Jinnah, which he first used for crossing his Royal Bank of Scotland
checks. Pie also traded in his traditional Sindhi long yellow coat for smartly
tailored Saville Row suits and heavily-starched detachable-collared shirts.
Ills lull, lean frame was perfectly suited to display London’s finest fashions.
Iltmah was to remain a model of sartorial elegance for the rest of his life,

• an •fully selecting the finest cloth for the 200-odd hand-tailored suits in his
wardrobe closet by the end of his life. As a barrister he prided himself on
imvcr wearing the same silk tie twice. The very stylishness of his attire ex¬
truded to the tips of his toes, which were sheathed in smart two-tone
Inilber or suede. Few Englishmen ever developed as keen an interest in
dress as did Jinnah. His perfect manners and attire always assured him
miry into any of England’s stately homes, clubs, and palaces. Like Anthony
1 dm and the Duke of Windsor, Jinnah became a model of fashion the world
iivcr, rivaled among his South Asian contemporaries only by Motilal Nehru.

Mr. M. A. Jinnah did not take long to abandon the drudgery of his
la ahum's apprenticeship. He arrived in London in February 1893 and on
April 25 of dial year "petitioned” Lincoln’s Inn and was “granted” permis-
.liiii "lo he excused Ihc Latin portion of the Preliminary Examination.” 17
I lie grand and potty lures of London dislodged him from his musty desk in
the old city. Walking toward the spires of Westminster, jinnah sauntered

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

down Fleet Street, past Chancery Lane and the old Temple Bar, into the
spacious fields of Lincoln’s Inn, then still bared by winter’s bite but having
the promise of forsythia, lilac, and wisteria. Half a century later, addressing
Karachi’s Bar he recalled, "I joined Lincoln's Inn because there, on the main
entrance, the name of the Prophet was included in the list of the great law¬
givers of the world.” 18 It was a fascinating trick of memory he played on
himself, for no such inscription exists over the main, or indeed any other
entrance of Lincoln’s Inn, nor did it then. What Jinnah recalled seeing, how¬
ever, was G. F. Watt’s fresco in Lincoln's New Hall called “The Law Givers,
depicting the Prophet with Moses, Jesus, and other great spiritual leaders of
civilization. A London tour guide or Inn guard must have pointed out Mu¬
hammad’s visage within earshot of young Jinnah, who possibly decided then
that this was the Inn he would like most to attend. For orthodox (Sunni)
Muslims, of course, any human depiction of the Prophet was an anathema,
heresy to iconoclastic Islam. Jinnah’s message to Pakistan s young Sunni
barristers was naturally meant to be inspirational, yet how could he admit to
them that the holy Prophet’s image had early inspired him? Subconsciously,
therefore, he deleted the face from memory, “inscribing” Muhammad s
“name” over Lincoln’s “main entrance’’ instead.

Young Jinnah was fascinated by the glamorous world of politics that he
glimpsed as often as possible from the visitor’s gallery of Westminster's
House of Commons. Lord Cross’s India Councils Act, passed after heated
debate in 1892, stimulated the first full-dress discussion of Indian affairs in
London since 1888. That act introduced, albeit indirectly, the elective prin¬
ciple into British India’s constitution, thus serving as an historic thin-edge of
the wedge of representative government that was soon to force open offi¬
cially dominated council chambers throughout British India. Jinnah himself
soon was elected as one of Bombay’s representatives to Calcutta’s Central
Legislative Council and later served for decades on New Delhi’s expanded
assembly, where he played an important parliamentary role.

The Liberal tide that brought William Gladstone back to 10 Downing
Street for a third time in 1892 also carried Bombay Parsi Dadabhai Naoroji
(1825-1917) into Parliament. Dadabhai, who had started a firm in London
and Liverpool in 1855, was elected to the House of Commons from Central
Finsbury on a Liberal ticket by so slender a margin (three votes) that he
was commonly called “Mr. Narrow-Majority” by his peers. To India’s youth,
however, Dadabhai was the Grand Old Man of national politics, a veritable
Indian Gladstone. Dadabhai presided over the second session of the Indian
Congress in 1880, crying out then; "No matter what it is, Legislative Coun¬
cils or the Services nothing can be reformed until I’lirllumcnl moves and
niodllleutlini* of the milting Act*, Not one single genuine Indian

K A HACHI

volc<« is there in Parliament to tell at least what the native view is on any
question.” 19 Lord Salisbury, the ousted Tory prime minister, characterized
lull skinned Dadabhai as a “black man” during the campaign, a racist slur
iIml backfired, contributing to Parsi Dadabhai’s victory. The volunteer ward
liilioi’N of energetic young Indians like Jinnah helped bring the voice of a
I- in ling Indian nationalist to echo through the mightiest chamber of the
lb'lll»h Empire.

"II Dadabhai was black, I was darker,” Jinnah told his sister. “And if
I III 1 , was the mentality of the British politicians, then we would never get a
lull deal from them. From that day I have been an uncompromising enemy
mI nil forms of colour bar and racial prejudice.” 20 Jinnah listened from the
I iin ii lions gallery to Dadabhai’s maiden speech in 1893 and “thrilled” as he
I mm I I he Grand Old Man extol the virtues of “free speech.” As Jinnah noted,
I In i r he was, an Indian, who would exercise that right and demand justice
Im Ills countrymen.” Without freedom of speech, Jinnah wisely understood
"i'v i ml ion would remain “stunted” or wither “like a rose bush that is planted
In ii place where there is neither sunshine nor air.” 21 Thanks to Dadabhai’s
Inspiring example, Jinnah entered politics as a Liberal nationalist, joining

• ’'ingress soon after he returned to India,

I Mil Jinnah embark upon his study of the law in preparation for a po-
lllli nl career? No record survives of the thoughts that passed through his
mimI In the spring of 1893. We know only that he did decide to sit for his
lull" g<> preliminary examination, a “relatively simple” test for admission
i" lln Inns of Court; he took it without the Latin portion and “passed” on
M.n 25, 1893. Had he procrastinated he might not have been able to com-
pli i<’ Ills legal apprenticeship, for next year a number of prerequisites were
hI'IciI and the process of professional legal certification was substantially
pmlonged, jinnah’s funds would have run out before he finished his studies.

: im ' iniId he have received any further support from home, since his father’s
I" 1 •'inc, lied to the vagaries of world market and monetary exchange cycles
d'"i plunged India’s silver rupee into deep depression relative to British
i "I-1 I nicked sterling after 1893, then collapsed.

• veil II Jinnahbhai Poonja could have afforded the luxury, it is doubtful
llial lie won l<! have contributed another rupee to his son’s support in Lon-
■ I"|• l he old man was "furious” when he learned of Jinnah’s impulsive de-

• l"l"ii In nl miikIoii his business career. Nor is it very likely that Sir Frederick,

.. "I Ids elders al Graham’s home office, would have lifted a further

11,1111 1 h» help this "Sindlii upstart ingrate.” As Jinnah well knew, he was on
hi" own, No pillars ol supporl remained to fall back upon. Nor would this be
dn only time in life that lie would find himself isolated, cut off in so
I" 1 1 Ii it i n a | a in 11 Ion, Still lie never faltered, acting with surgical swiftness to

j2 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

alter his career. If he had any fears or doubts about his future, he left no
record of them. On June 25,1893, he embarked upon his study of the law at
Lincoln’s Inn.

Lincoln’s Inn had a most imposing list of graduates and dropouts, includ-
ing Thomas More, William Pitt, and half a dozen other British prime minis¬
ters from Lord Canning to Asquith. Two of Britain’s greatest prime minis¬
ters, Disraeli and Gladstone, went there but neither completed his course of
study. In 1893 when Jinnah enrolled, John Morley (1838-1923), who first
entered Lincoln's premises thirty-one years earlier, was elected a bencher.
Author of On Compromise, John Stuart Mill's greatest disciple, Gladstone’s
Irish Home Rule secretary and Liberal lieutenant, “Honest John” (later
Lord) Morley then had his most important half decade as secretary of state
for India (1906-10) still ahead of him. One of Britain’s most brilliant Lib¬
erals, Morley became one of Jinnah’s heroes. The uncompromising idealistic
fervor of On Compromise went through Jinnah s mind like a flame, ig¬
niting his imagination with arguments such as that which insisted upon
placing “truth" first among any choice of "principles.” Jinnah quoted Morley
to student audiences later in life, and he personally tried to adhere to the
Liberal ideals early imbibed from Lincoln s great bencher.

M. A. Jinnah’s legal education was, with minor modification, the medi¬
eval guild apprenticeship method launched with the founding of Lincoln s
Inn, which was named for the King’s Sergeant of Holborn, Thomas de Lin¬
coln, in the latter half of the fourteenth century. Records of that self-govern¬
ing society’s council meetings and business affairs have been preserved at
the Inn’s library in annual “Black Books” since 1422, when the students all
still lived within the Inn’s somber walls. After the enrolled number of stu¬
dents became too great to accommodate inside, the hostel tradition was only
symbolically retained through the requirement that all students enrolled at
a university eat a minimum of three dinners in the Great Hall, or those not
enrolled, as in Jinnah’s case, eat six. The collegial environment of those din¬
ners, where barristers and benchers sat close enough to students to engage
them in conversation, argument, or debate, was deemed an important aspect
of legal training. For how better could young men sharpen their wits and
develop forensic skills, after all, than in debate with their guild elders? The
conviviality of table talk was, moreover, a shortcut to friendship or an¬
tipathy, and if a young apprentice was alert as well as wise he soon learned
what was best said or left unsaid in the company of lawyers.

The Great Hall was used not only for dining, however, since “moots”
and “bolts” were also held there; barristers debating legal issues and ques¬
tions in llu) former, students following suit ia the hitter. The most important

fc MIACHI

element in Jinnah’s legal education, however, was the two years of “reading”
apprenticeship he spent in a barrister’s chambers. He would follow his mas-
Ih n professional footsteps outside chambers as well, through all the corri-
'l"'s of Temple Court, up every creaking stair of Holborn’s crowded pubs.
Will, slight exaggeration one might say that if, in addition to the above, a
I'Hi'lil, lad read William Blackstone’s Commentaries on common law he
'""Id cram enough information into his head to pass the final examination
I hIoi to admission to the Bar. Jinnah’s class still belonged to that old school
"I young gentlemen who were deemed fit for a career in law as long as they
kn"\v the jargon, dressed properly, and ate with the right utensils.

When he was not in chambers or dining in Great Hall, Jinnah passed
""" I' °f his time in London strolling or studying in the book-lined Reading

... of the British Nluseum, a Mecca for scholars the world over. On Sun-

d"\ when that haven closed, he went at times to Hyde Park corner at the
^l'»*hit' Arch to listen to the open-air oratory of anyone who had a box to
h, "ii'l upon and the courage to speak his mind on any subject. Irish Home
Uni.’ wus one of the burning issues of the day, and Irish Parliamentary party
s l I* Allred Webb, whom Jinnah had heard from Westminster’s gallery,
" elreled to preside over the Madras Congress in 1894. “I hate tyranny
""I oppression wherever practised, more especially if practised by my own
l lav eminent, for then I am in a measure responsible,” Webb said to his
Imliiiii audience that December. And until the “Irish question” was resolved,
l " "lil.'ii! Webb insisted, India, like the rest of the British Empire, would
"H' • lor Parliament “is paralysed with . . . the affairs of under five mil-
b""' 1 "I people, and ministries rise and fall on the question of Ireland rather
1 r.ieai Imperial interests.” 23 It was an important lesson for Jinnah, one
Id Miiliemiseiously assimilated during those early lonely years in London, of
I""' " "mall minority and its insistent demands could “paralyze” a huge em-
p!" II'' learned to appreciate all the weaknesses as well as strengths of
Ibllhli < liaraeter. Whether or not he ever rose the requisite minimal height
*1'" 1 * I"' aierosanct soil at Plyde Park corner to harangue any London audi-
1 ' bluixell, lie learned many useful debating tricks merely by listening

'I.oil engaging speakers in argument.

■ jn| nvery weekend was spent in London, however. He went at least once
111 ' ' l""l wUli friends, later recalling that his first “friction with the police”
"•"•I 'luring the annual Oxbridge boat race, when “I was with two
iii. n.I ami we were caught up with a crowd of undergraduates. We found
'» 'I In a wide slicri, so we pushed each other up and down the roadway,
im ,, l "■ were arresled and taken off to the police station . . . [and] let off
id< a i a ii 11 m i." 21 ll was the cIoncnI this remarkably law-abiding Indian

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

would ever come to being placed behind bars—another polar difference that
separated him from Gandhi, Nehru, and most other nationalist leaders who
spent years in British prison cells.

Young Jinnah fell in love with theater while living in London. His secret
ambition, he later confessed, was “to play the role of Romeo at the Old
Vic.” 25 Exactly when he started to dream of an acting career is unclear,
though it was obviously after he had begun to study law. Perhaps law bored
him at first, or it may have been watching the performances of barristers, the
greatest of whom were often spell-binding thespians, that stimulated his in¬
terest in going on stage. At any event, it was no mere whim or passing fancy,
but a love affair that lasted till the end of his years. “Even in the days of his
most active political life,” Fatima reminisced, “when he returned home tired
and late, he would read Shakespeare, his voice . . . resonant.” The ubiqui¬
tous monocle remained his major courtroom prop later and those who wit¬
nessed his dramatic interrogations and imperious asides, whether to judge
or jury, often commented that he was a born actor. Many a political op¬
ponent made the mistake of believing, however, that Jinnah was only
acting” when he was most serious.

On June 7, 1895, Jinnah wrote a check for £138/19/- covering all fees
for admission to the Bar. He had ignored his father s letters ordering him to
“come home” to help save the fast-failing business and paid the full Bar ex¬
penses early to not be tempted later to spend any of that sum. Pie was
charged only £10 a month for his room and half board at the home of Mrs.
Page-Drake, and would always be very careful with money. The habits of
frugality he developed in those early London years never left him. He even
managed to save £71/1/10 of the sum his father had initially turned over to
him, after three years of living in the heart of what was then surely the most
tempting marketplace on earth. Still he dreamed of a life in art, and of
remaining in London.

“After I was called to the Bar, I was taken by some friends to the Man¬
ager of a theatrical company, who asked me to go up to the stage and read
out pieces of Shakespeare,” Jinnah reminisced. “I did so. His wife and he
were immensely pleased, and immediately offered me a job. I was exultant,
and I wrote to my parents craving for their blessings. I wrote to them that
law was a lingering profession where success was uncertain; a stage career
was much better, and it gave me a good start, and that I would now be in¬
dependent and not bother them with grants of money at all. My father wrote
a long letter to me, strongly disapproving of my project; but there was one
sentence in his letter that touched me most and which influenced a change
in my decision: 'Do not be n traitor to the family.’ I went to my employers
mid convoyed to them that I no longer looked forward to a stage career.

i. VMACHI

I hey were surprised, and they tried to persuade me, but my mind was made
■ i|». According to the terms of the contract I had signed with them, I was
In have given them three months notice before quitting. But you know, they
' ere Englishmen, and so they said: ‘Well when you have no interest in the

•jingo, why should we keep you, against your wishes?’ ” 2S

The signed contract indicates how serious Jinnah’s commitment to Lon-
iInn's stage and acting had been. It was obviously his first love at this time.

II In lather’s “long letter” had dissuaded him, forcing him to change his mind
mi n matter of major importance, but that was the last time he would ever

• In no. The charge of familial “treason” cut his conscience to the quick, leav-
iM)', him sorely wounded. Apparently that letter also informed him of his
on ill in’s death, and possibly of his wife’s as well. For in reporting how

militant” he had felt after landing the job, he noted, “I wrote to my parents
i laving for their blessings.” What a shock that letter from his father must
Imvu been, full of dread news and reprimand. And what a cloud it must
have cast over his last days and weeks in London.

< >n May 11, 1896, “Mahomed Ali Jinnah Esquire, a Barrister of this So-
- Inly," petitioned the benchers of Lincoln’s Inn for a “certificate” attesting
lib Admission Call to the Bar and of his deportment.” 27 With that talisman
la would be welcome to join the Bar of any court in British India. Now he
« iin midy to go home, but not to Karachi. There was nothing left in Karachi
I Ini! I"' truly cared for any more. So before leaving London he transferred
ili» lulal balance of his bank account to a new account in his name to be

• '|•••ill'll at the National Bank of India, Ltd., Bombay. That was done on
|"b IT 1896. Next day he climbed the gangway of the P & O liner that

ilb 1 1 east. Karachi would be nothing more than a brief stop en route to the
1 ll\ b<' chose as his new permanent home. His father had lured him from
I him Ion with its matchless wonder, but nothing short of the partition of
ludlii would bring him back to live in Karachi—and then only briefly, to

• "inn I a now nation, before dying.

Bombay

0896 - 1910 )

Tinnah was enrolled as a barrister in Bombay's high court on August 24,
1896 precisely one decade after the Karachi country boy was first driven
past that Victorian palace of law. His richly variegated London experiences,
tempered by the traumas of his brief return home, had made a man of him.
He was bereft of mother and wife; his most powerful ties to Karachi had
been cut with surgical finality. M. A. Jinnah, Esq., borne out of the bitter
disappointment and pain that shrouded his last few months, was launched

into orbit on his own. ,

For Bombay, as for Jinnah personally, it was a time of tragedy and
mourning. Bubonic plague from China reached that busy port in the autumn
of 1896. The Black Death that claimed millions of Indian lives in the ensuing
decades remained most severe in the crowded, bustling cities of Bom ay,
Poona, and Ahmedabad, at least until the ingenius Dr. W. M. Hafikme
(1860-1930) developed his vaccine in 1899. Jinnah’s preoccupation wit
cleanliness, scrubbing his hands many times daily at almost obsessive lengt ,
seems to date from this pre-Haflkine era, when the only known antidotes
to the Black Death were soap, water, and whitewash. His lifelong obsession
with clean, meticulous dress as well as personal hygiene and privacy seem
rather more sensible than surprising, given the humid heat and health haz¬
ards prevalent in Bombay, especially at this time. Jinnah rented a reasonable
room in the Apollo Railway Hotel on Charni Road within walking distance
of the high court, where he spent most of his days auditing the advocacy o

others and awaiting his first client.

Virtually nothing is known of th» young barrister's first three years in
practice'. Ily 1900, however, Ills prole,ssloniil promise was held in high cs-
lenni" by a most Influential "Mnnd," 1 wilt) Introduced him to Bombay s

mom hay (1896-1910)

in Hug advocate-general, John Molesworth MacPherson. The latter took im¬
mediate liking to young Jinnah and invited him to work in his office. It was
I I'M first such invitation MacPherson “ever extended to an Indian,” Sarojini
Niiltlu (1879-1949), one of Jinnah’s most devoted friends, recalled. 2 Mac-
PliiTSon’s confidence and support came “as a beacon of hope” at a low point
in |lmiah’s early struggles to establish himself. Auntie Manbai Peerbhoy, her
husband, and their circle of friends, assisted him socially, of course, 3 and
I laving come through Lincoln’s Inn gave him the proper credentials; but
Mm I’lierson did for Jinnah’s legal career what Croft had done for his life—
" moved it from the humdrum realm of local competition to a more exalted
I'l ilrau of power and possibility. In MacPherson’s chambers Jinnah had
m ci’ns to information long before it reached the ears of penurious pleaders
I'lniMing through dim corridors of the court. Within a few months of going
I" work lor MacPherson, he learned, for example, that one of Bombay’s four
niiigl'ilruoi&s (a municipal judgeship) was about to fall vacant. His response
•" lln' acquisition of this valuable news offers a glimpse of young Jinnah in
" linn, “Gazing through the window and smoking a cigarette” in the
mlumiic general’s office, Jinnah saw a “Victoria cab . . . slowly passing by,”

• nil mm I outside, and “jumped into it and drove straight to the office of Sir
' Inn les ()llivant.” 4 Sir Charles was then judicial member of the provincial
i mi • ■ 111 Merit of Bombay and found MacPherson’s handsome ambitious young
i iil'iliml so impressive that he hired him to serve as “temporary” third presi-

• I* uny magistrate.

1 1 m in 1 1 sat t or six months on the municipal bench, hearing every sort of
I" 11 v criminal case, from charges brought against two Muslim “opium
• 1 . i . hum Basra of concealing their dope under their turbans, to com-
|'l"lnl»i by the Great Indian Peninsula Railway brought against riders ac-
.I "I lulling to pay any fare, to accusations against ordinary Chinese

■ linn ii lor refusing to work on their ships while in port. Jinnah proved him-
II lull mid I earless as a judge but found the Bench a much less attractive

l'i"l' Hiiiiiiiil prospect than the Bar. Was it the pugnacity of youth that made
••h m any morn fascinating for him? Or the lure of more lucrative rewards?
1 mu i well as fortune went to great barristers, of course, and Jinnah
l""|ii d lui l>ol.li. When Sir Charles offered him a permanent place on the
I" ni Ii llirielore, at the perfectly respectable starting salary of 1,500 rupees

■ .'I' i" 1001. jlmiali declined, replying, “I will soon be able to earn that

♦mn Ii In a single day,” 4 As soon he did.

II" dawn ol I he I'ldwardiim era, coinciding with that of the twentieth
•'"inn I (hum I Jimiali firmly established in his chosen career, earning

• imiifili iiiiiiu \ in rc’iiI a "new office.” lie “spared no expense” to furnish that

■ l» i mil uni! III tractive elinmber," Ills sister recalled, in a manner which “any

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

lawyer would have been proud to call his own.” 6 Jinnahbhai Poonja’s health
had declined with his business fortune, and so the old man moved with his
remaining children to Bombay, renting a small house in the Khoja district
of Khaj a k- Jinnah appears not to have seen much of his father in this inter¬
lude however, and by 1904 Jinnahbhai moved off to Bombay’s Ratnagiri
coast where he spent his final years in quiet retirement. The only sibling
with whom Jinnah established a close, continuing relationship was Fatima,
who enrolled as a boarding student in Bombay’s Bandra Convent School
thanks to her brother’s munificent support. Mission schools were still the
best primary and secondary centers of education in India at this time, and
because of her excellent early education Fatima was able to gain admission
to the highly competitive University of Calcutta, where she attended the
Dental School. Jinnah visited his adoring sister on Sundays, taking her for
carriage rides around Bombay which she learned to love as much as her
brother. Almost as tall and lean as he, Fatima’s appearance was an arresting
replica of her brother’s, the noble brow as high, the cheek bones as promi¬
nent, the luminous eyes as wide and probing, and the hair, initially as warm
and raven black, would later become just as coldly white.

Though religion never played an important role in Jinnah’s life—except
for its political significance—he left the Aga Khan’s “Sevener” Khoja com*
munity at this stage of his maturation, opting instead to join the less hierillV
chically structured Isna ’Ashari sect of “Twelver” Khojas, who acknowledged
no leader. One of Jinnah’s most admired Bombay friends, Justice Badruddln
Tyabji ( 1844-1906), first Muslim high court judge and third president of 1 lie
Indian National Congress, was an Isna Ashari. Tyabji, like Jinnah, was n
secular liberal modernist, who argued in his presidential address to tlir
Madras Congress: “I, for one, am utterly at a loss to understand why Mils
sulmans should not work shoulder to shoulder with their fellow-countrymen,
of other races and creeds, for the common benefit of all . . . this is I lie
principle on which we, in the Bombay Presidency, have always acini " 1
Jinnah’s other closest friends and admired elders in Bombay were Punk
Hindus, and Christians, none of whom took their respective religions as uni*
ously as their faith in British law and Indian nationalism.

Most of the leaders of the one-fourth of British India’s population Dial
adhered to Islam, however, were either orthodox (Sunni) fundamentalist h,
w ho continued to look to the Quran and prophetic practices as their twill
sources of appropriate daily behavior, or modernist disciples of Sir SuyviiJ
A h m ad Khan (1817-98), who rejected Congress's claim to institutional ill
rection of a single united Indian national movement as vigorously us they
denied Islamic orthodoxy’s Infallibility. In 1875, a decade lielore the Imllan
National Congress was founded. Sir Sayyid Marled Ills potent Mnljaiiiiiiudun

Mtl lint i I Ml )(| 11)10)

Km Mi Itnl ill Cullogc at Aligarh, some sixty miles southeast of Delhi.
| 1 |!hmI nn lln < hbrtdge residential and tutorial collegiate system, Aligarh
£i|t jp hi I ill Iiiiin ol wealthy young Muslim males of British India Western

'• 1 .''I philosophy, and the dual virtue of loyalty to the British raj as

| j|« in Mum Aligarh’s cricket fields and commons rooms served as breed-
Ml jHmmilii 1 1 H llie Muslim League. Sir Sayyid himself, knighted in 1870,

IN' H Id due I lie to service in the British Empire. Appointed by the

1 i" lii" Imperial Legislative Council, Sir Sayyid argued from that
P^ilnl (millutm in 1883 against “the introduction of the principle of elec-
IMl | mi mid ilniple" into the body politic of “a country like India, where
i MMItn lliui'i »ilIII llourish, where there is no fusion of the various races,

1,1 ' .. dl'il 1 1 let Ion.s are still violent.” 8 A decade later he denounced

| «ml iil i|i ' h" nl (Congress as “based upon ignorance of history and
Nil Mhi leiilllli’N. I hoy do not take into consideration that India is in-
MhI Im dill. M nl mil tonalities; they presuppose that the Muslims like the
l»l " ■ • 1 • • 1,1 ilimlii'. the Kshatriyas . . . can all be treated alike, and

If 1 1 l"U|i i" dir Mime nation.” 0 That was the earliest modern articu-

Hl tin 1 .. theory, which was to become the ideological basis

h • I d llttrm

Ilf ' ' I.. nl Mnmlmv remained as remote from such feelings, as

y |nm m nli mu li H lug, as he had been in London in 1893, when

III H*»l |"• I * "I Hindus and Muslims as “different nationalities.”

h 1 Mtn h " 'il dil li.was the law, though his singular success as an

•ml .lull'd In his acting talent. “He was what God made

H ‘ 11 I ii i nl Hiinihay's high court put it, “a great pleader. He

M n ■ I.Id •.••c around corners. That is where his talents

!»► '* 1 " ' ' i\ ' li hi thinker. . . . But he drove his points home—
1 " ith i |in il. selection slow delivery, word by word.” 10 An-

MtMHIlp".ii d When he stood up in Court, slowly looking to¬

ll |ii*1 1 *i jihii hi)' hi’, monocle in his eye—with the sense of timing

i * i 1 1 . " l'»i lie became omnipotent. Yes, that is the

MMtlllf i ' ,,i |• > ii him Alva said ho “cast a spell on the court-room

• 1 .Ill* A In die worst circumstances. He has been our

i* h.h . mii'.l famous legal apprentice, M. C. Chagla,

f|l 1 11 m In li....iiiile<I i hI. ! justice of Bombay’s high court, re-

1,1 Mil i i l i | H • 1 .'•nl nl ion of a ease" was nothing less than “a

!• • I 1 .. ■ h. mi >. i • 'in a I iii 'i I Oadnhlmi Naoroji and another bril-

Ulln nl IImimIm I' m nl riiunniinlly, Sir I’lierozcshnh Mehta (1845-

M Ii 1 I.Ini In \Miikiil lot some lime (luring this early intcr-

' |iM idi I in . i the i inigie.'iN In 1890 mid sires,sod the role of all

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

minorities in India’s nation-building process. “To my mind, a Parsi is a better
and a truer Parsi, as a Mahomedan or a Hindu is a better and truer Mahom-
edan or Hindu, the more he is attached to the land which gave him birth,”
Sir Pherozeshah insisted. “Is it possible to imagine that Dadabhai Naoroji,
for instance, true Parsi that he is, is anything but an Indian? . . . Can any
one doubt, if I may be allowed to take another illustration, that Sir Syed
Ahmed Khan was greater and nobler when he was devoting the great en¬
ergies and talents with which he is endowed . . . for the benefit of all In¬
dians in general, than when, as of late, he was preaching a gospel of selfish¬
ness and isolation?” 13 Mehta was India’s first Parsi barrister, called to the
Bar from Lincoln’s Inn in 1868, and served as a member of Bombay’s Mu¬
nicipal Corporation for forty-six years, four times in its chair. Elegant, im¬
perious, a fierce advocate, hailed as “Uncrowned King of Bombay,” Sir
Perozeshah was more the Bombay model for Jinnah’s early career than
Dadabhai. In 1890 he labeled the “supposed rivalry” between Hindus and
Muslims nothing more than “a convenient decoy to distract attention and to
defer the day of reform.” 14 Young Jinnah felt much the same way.

The first annual session of Congress attended by Jinnah was its twentieth,
held under canvas on Bombay’s Oval in December 1904. Sir Pherozeshah
chaired the reception committee, his welcoming “remarks” taking longer
than Sir Henry Cotton’s entire presidential address, indicative of their rela¬
tive positions within the Congress as well as their rhetorical styles. Respond¬
ing to Viceroy Lord Curzon’s patronizing advice, “I do not think that the
salvation of India is to be sought in the field of politics,” Mehta asked, “How
can these aspirations and desires be even gradually achieved, unless we are
allowed to play at all times a modest and temperate part on the field of
politics?” 15 Surely not through the “dubious labors” of British India’s “secret
and irresponsible bureaucracy,” argued Mehta, agreeing with Walter Bage-
hot that all bureaucracy tended to “under-government in point of quality”
and “over-government in point of quantity.” 16 Mehta proposed that two of
his trusted disciples from Bombay be sent as Congress deputies to London
the following year to lobby what he and other well-informed observers of
Britain’s political climate correctly anticipated would be the new Liberal
government in Westminster and Whitehall. His choices for so important a
task were Gopal Krishna Gokhale (1886-1915) and M. A. Jinnah. Mahatma
(“Great-Souled”) Gokhale, who was to preside over the next session of Con¬
gress, seemed an obvious choice to everyone, but Jinnah was still unknown
to most Congress delegates, and enough questions were raised to hold up
release of any funds for his passage. 17 lie did, however, sail to England with
Gokhale eight years Inter, when both were appointed to the same royal com¬
mission. The 190 ! (longresN was Jiminh's flrsl meeting with Goldialo, whoso

'"MMav (1896-1910)

" I'mIihu. I airness, and moderation he came to admire so that he soon stated
l,h l ""‘ l ambition” in politics was to become “the Muslim Gokhale.” 18

|liitiuli s involvement in Congress politics was as integral a by-product of
hi * nourishing legal career and social fife in Bombay as his earlier commit-
mi ni In Dadabhai had been in London. Lord Curzon’s paternalistic vice-
" 1 1 v helped to stimulate growing political impatience among India’s
*" ''xpunding pool of educated young men, fired with the liberty-loving
'•!• ah ol British literature while faced with the depressing realities of Indian

.npluynu nt, political dependence, and abysmal poverty. Internationally,

(mi-, was a year of revolutionary surprises. Japan’s electrifying victory over
N 'i'aiiic fleet, the Petersburg Revolution that moved the tsar to ap-
11 representative duma, the Chinese boycott of British goods in many

1. . A"’- “ nd Britain’s turbulent national election that ushered in a decade

"I I ihmil party rule in London, sent shock waves of excitement throughout
"" Bidlim subcontinent. Internally, the most dramatic and far-reaching act
''"' ‘‘' 1 1,1 A ( mrzon’s half decade of viceregal rule was the partition of Ben-
>' '• Bi M isii India’s premier province.

" A* 1 11 population of over 85 million, Bengal was certainly “unwieldy” to
MiliiilnlNln-, hut the line drawn to divide it ran through the Bengali-speaking

..A ,lmt sprawling province, dividing its predominantly Hindu

B- iiimIi speakers in the West from the mostly poorer Muslim Bengali-
*)" "! < in ms! of Calcutta. A new Muslim-majority province. Eastern Bengal

..• wus created with its capital in Dacca. West Bengal, administered

*'"" 1 * |, l''• Bln, continued to have a Hindu majority but contained so many
•"Im.i mill Orlya speaking people that it no longer had a Bengali-speaking
‘•'"•lu majority, Calcutta’s Bengali Hindu elite, who had been Curzon’s
11 •lies since 1.903, viewed this partition of their “motherland” as
••'in h ,/n 1,1,• <■( Impera with a vengeance. The half decade of violent anti-
|MlMlI mm arilnlIon that started in Calcutta’s crowded bazaars and narrow
9 I a *'iii I Hies of national protest and boycott against British goods across
bnli., I.. I guile Bombay, Poona, Madras, and Lahore. Millions of Indians

1,11. .. by political demands were politicized by the impassioned

. .mi" ni speeches and actions of Bengal’s revolutionaries, who left

"" ,l h • flee.mis by llic thousands to march through Calcutta’s streets sing-

,M M *''"ni'Mvv.'s new anthem “Bande Mataram” (“Hail To Thee, Mother”)

" "A • l' „* hi'd lists held high.

..*' |"‘i ,,(, i»iilly voiced no traceable reaction to Bengal’s first partition,

. . 1,1 •he political impact of its explosive aftershock was to change his life

• Him h n i il ni tort'(.I the map ol India. As a Congress moderate, friend, and
, * 1 "" 'I' 1, must have agreed, however, with President Gokhale',s elmniclei-
1 '* 1 I'mUMon as a cruel wrong, . , , a complete illustration of thfl

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

worst features of the present system of bureaucratic rule—its utter contempt
for public opinion, its arrogant pretentions to superior wisdom, its reckless
disregard of the most cherished feelings of the people.” 19 As a Bombay
Muslim, however, Jinnah was perhaps most remote among all subsets of
Indian nationalists from the feelings of outrage and betrayal shared by so
many Bengali Hindus. He well understood, of course, how shrewd a British
political move this was, weaning Bengali Muslims from dependence on Cal¬
cutta’s landlord and moneylending as well as political Hindu leadership, ex¬
alting sleepy little Dacca to equal provincial status with Calcutta, Bombay,
and Madras. That first partition ignited Muslim political consciousness
throughout the subcontinent, providing a provincial cradle in Dacca for the
birth of the Muslim League in 1906.

Curzon’s successor, Lord Minto (1845-1914), was also a Tory, entrenched
in Calcutta shortly before the British general elections that would depose his
party from power in London for the next decade. Paradoxically, British
India’s Liberal secretary of state, John Morley, contributed as much as
Minto did to dividing the empire he ruled from 1906 to 1910 by promising,
for the noblest of reasons, to initiate parliamentary constitutional reforms
soon after he took Whitehall’s helm. Morley’s council reforms, intended to
liberalize and expand the base of secular representative popular government
throughout India, planted the seeds of religious partition in the heart of
British India’s emerging constitution.

On October 1, 1906, thirty-five Muslims of noble birth, wealth, and
power, from every province of British India and several princely states,
gathered in the regal ballroom of the viceroy’s Simla palace in the Hima¬
layas. The fourth earl of Minto, an avid horseman nicknamed “Mr. Roily,”
entered precisely at 11:00 a.m., the Aga Khan introduced each of his fellow
deputees to the viceroy, and then Lord Minto read aloud the address, which
was printed on vellum and had earlier been sent to his secretary, J. R. Dun¬
lop Smith (1858-1921). The address contained a warning that

The Mohamedans of India have always placed implicit reliance on the
sense of justice and love of fair dealing that have characterised their
rulers, and have in consequence abstained from pressing their claims
by methods that might prove at all embarrassing, but earnestly as we
desire that the Mohamedans of India should not in the future depart
from that excellent and time-honoured tradition, recent events have
stirred up feelings, especially among the younger generation of Mo¬
hamedans, which might, in certain circumstances and under certain
contingencies, easily pass beyond the control of temperate counsel
and sober guidance.' 40

no m hay (1896-1910)

Vial none of the ominous implications of that warning were lost upon the
viceroy or his staff.

We hope your Excellency will pardon our stating at the outset that
representative institutions of the European type are new to the Indian
people; many of the most thoughtful members of our community in
lael consider that the greatest care, forethought and caution will be
necessary if they are to be successfully adapted to the social, reli¬
gions and political conditions obtaining in India, and that in the
absence of such care and caution their adoption is likely, among other
evils, to place our national interests at the mercy of an unsympathetic
majority.

I Ills was the first use of the words “national interests” by Indian Muslims

.|'pealing to British rulers for help against the “unsympathetic” Hindu

,,M, l nl * ,v I be address went on to spell out Muslim hopes for more positions
"lllilh every branch of government service, arguing: “We Mohamedans are
" l * 1 ' 1111 ' 1 community with additional interests of our own which are not
abat ed by other communities, and these have hitherto suffered from the fact
'•"•I 'la v have not been adequately represented. . . . We therefore pray
lli.il Government will be graciously pleased to provide that both in the
m, ‘'I ""d the subordinate and ministerial services of all Indian provinces
' Proportion of Mohamedans shall always find place.” Thanks to in-
i • • ii'ii 1 1 ('durational opportunity, “the number of qualified Mohamedans has
Ini leaned, bid the efforts of Mohamedan educationists have from the very
"" l ' * 'd I he educational movement among them been strenuously directed
lhe development of character, and this we venture to think is of
i in i linporlnnee than mere mental alertness in the making of a good pub-

hi .. Separate seats for Muslims were requested to be reserved on

* ,M " 1 ','d and provincial councils, high court benches, and municipalities, as
" ell m, on university senates and syndicates.

I h. deputation received a “hearty welcome” from Minto. He praised
'h' oh mid lls student body, “strong in the tenets of their own religion,

" * * i 1 1,1 ,Im ' precepts of loyalty and patriotism.” He congratulated the depu-
MIIiim Im I lie loyally, common-sense and sound reasoning so eloquently
' “I"' ' ' ^ |M vonr address, lie also thanked the Muslims of Eastern Bengal
" 1 v "" '"i I lie moderation and self-restraint they have shown” in the
'• 1 "l pa 11 IIion, promising them they could rely as firmly as ever on
Mini 'll Ins!Ire mid lair play.” Since lie shared none of Morley’s deep-rooted
lil'ii d di’iniHTallr convictions and was a conservative landlord himself,
MImIm av.uicd his aristocratic audience dial “I should be very far from wol-

24 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

coming all the political machinery of the Western world amongst the he¬
reditary instincts and traditions of Eastern races.”

Finally, Minto announced that “any electoral representation in India
would be doomed to mischievous failure which aimed at granting a
personal enfranchisement, regardless of the beliefs and traditions of
the communities composing the population of this continent . . . the
Mahomedan community may rest assured that their political rights
and interests as a community will be safeguarded by any administra¬
tive re-organization with which I am concerned.”

The viceroy’s remarks were greeted with “murmurs of satisfaction and
cries of “hear, hear” from the delighted deputation. At a garden tea party
that afternoon, delegates assured Lady Minto that “now we feel the Viceroy
is our friend.” Minto and Dunlop Smith considered it a most important day s
work, and it was probably the latter who told Her Ladyship that evening
that he viewed it as “nothing less than the pulling back of sixty-two millions
of people from joining the ranks of the seditious opposition. 21 Calcutta s
leading nationalist newspaper, Amrita Bazar Patrika, reported the deputa¬
tion and its reception as “a got-up affair . . . fully engineered by interested
officials ... to whitewash their doings . . . the authorities wanted a few
simple-minded men of position to give them a certificate of good conduct.
They knew the Hindus would not do it, so they began operation among the
older classes of Mussalmans.” 22 Both assessments were exaggerated, though
the deputation did win the promise of “separate electorates” for Muslims—a
major historic landmark on the road to Pakistan. From the nucleus of that
Simla deputation, however, the Muslim League would be born before the
year’s end. Jinnah, who had so recently quit the Aga Khan s Isma ili fold, had
nothing to do with the Muslim deputation or its historic Dacca aftermath.

In November, Salimullah Khan, the leading landowner of Dacca, whose
vast holdings won him the title “Nawab,” invited Aligarh’s Mohammedan
Educational Conference to Dacca for its annual meeting, suggesting at the
same time that a “Muslim All-India Confederacy” be convened in his city.
The “Nawab of Dacca” had been “sick” during the Simla meeting but chaired
the reception committee for the founding meeting of the Muslim League in
Dacca’s Shah Bagh (“Royal Garden”) on December 30, 1906. Sleepy Dacca’s
backwater thus suddenly emerged as the center of South Asian Muslim
politics, hosting fifty-eight Muslim delegates from every corner of the sub¬
continent.

“The Mu,sal mans are only a fifth in number as compared with the total
population of Hit* country." noted the Muslim Leagues first president', Nawab
Vi<|ur ul -Mulk Munhtuq Hussain ( IMII 1017). of Hyderabad.

• mhay (1896-1910)

m»cl it is manifest that if at any remote period the British Government
i eases to exist in India, then the rule of India would pass into the
hands of that community which is nearly four times as large as our-
seIves. Now, gentlemen, let each of you consider what will be your
"tndition if such a situation is created in India. Then, our life, our
property, our honour, and our faith will all be in great danger. When

• veil now that a powerful British administration is protecting its sub-
l 1 ' In. we the Musalmans have to face most serious difficulties in safe¬
guarding our interests from the grasping hands of our neighbours

woe betide the time when we become the subjects of our neigh-

• .. ' • • ^nd t0 prevent the realization of such aspirations on the

pail of our neighbours, the Musalmans cannot find better and surer
"aH un than to congregate under the banner of Great Britain, and to
drvolc their lives and property in its protection. 23

H"in founded by conservative loyalist Muslim nobility, frank in their
""h nnIuu that British imperial protection was indispensable to their con-

. . 1 " rl1 l)oin &« if not sheer survival, the Muslim League emerged with-

hilcd nationalist ambitions. “It is through regard for our own lives and
""puis, (air own honour and religion, that we are impelled to be faithful
•• H" ( aivminient ... our own prosperity is bound up with, and depends

.. loyalty to British rule in India,” President Hussain frankly ad-

uiiti d lie was, alter all, reared in the autocratic service of the nizam of
1 "hail, who permitted no political agitation, tolerated no dissent.

I" nol hesitate in declaring that unless the leaders of the Congress
d • sincere efforts as speedily as possible to quell the hostility
"'•"-I Hie Government and the British race, . . . the necessary con-
T" ' ul all that is being openly done and said to-day will be that
dm-m would he rampant, and the Mussalmans of India would be

' .. -J - J v '* lilJLO 1CUCI-

. I " Ml , ‘l*l*' >>y side will, the British Government, more effectively

H, in In 1 1iti inert 1 use of words. 24

I "'ll i'lilliinilluh Klmn moved four resolutions in Dacca, all carried

. .- 1 ’. 11 <•" 11 "jt; llio "Muslim League.” Destined to remain Muslim

" ll " I" 1 l" llllll| il organization, emerging in less than four decades as

"" l " ,l 1 . . 11,1 I ,; >Ui.slun, the League was created to "protect and ad-

,Im |."hiItuil rights mill interests of the Musalmans of India, and to
*1" 1 l, " ll > " l l ""'i | l I Mr needs and aspirations to the Government.” 25 The

1 1 "I *.' "lied it "a turning of a corner of the course” set two de-

. . . . 111 Sir Nlivyld Ahmad Khun when lie founded his Mulmmmadim

I" 1 tllliillill I imh'leiiee

elected IliNt honorary president of (he Muslim

WON

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

League, though he did not attend the Dacca inaugural session, and later
wrote it was “freakishly ironic” that “our doughtiest opponent in 1906” was
Jinnah, who “came out in bitter hostility toward all that I and my friends
had done and were trying to do. He was the only well-known Muslim to
take this attitude. . . . He said that our principle of separate electorates
was dividing the nation against itself.” 26

Jinnah had joined forty-four other like-minded Muslims in neighboring
Calcutta, meeting together with some 1,500 Hindus, Parsis, and Christians
at the 1906 annual session of Congress. Dadabhai Naoroji presided with
Jinnah serving as his secretary. Old Dadabhai was too weak to read the
address himself that Jinnah had helped write, so Gokhale read it for him,
beginning with several quotations. One, from Liberal Prime Minister
Campbell-Bannerman, called for self-government, “Good government could
never be a substitute for government by the people themselves.” And as
practical immediate steps toward attainment of this goal, the Dadabhai-
Gokhale-Jinnah address “earnestly” called for employment of more Indians
in every branch of the services to help eliminate the “three-fold wrong” in¬
flicted on India by retaining so many British officers

depriving us of wealth, work and wisdom, of everything, in short,
worth living for. . . . Alteration of the services from European to
Indian is the keynote of the whole. . . . Co-ordinately . . . educa¬
tion must be most vigorously disseminated among the people—free
and compulsory primary education, and free higher education of
every kind. . . . Education on the one hand, and actual training in
administration on the other hand, will bring the accomplishment of
self-government far more speedily than many imagine. 27

Dadabhai’s speech replete with quotes from Morley, included one
equating “the sacred word ‘free’” with “the noblest aspirations that can
animate the breast of man.” Such were the feelings and aspirations animat¬
ing Jinnah as he celebrated his thirtieth birthday from the platform of In¬
dia’s National Congress. The speech called the Bengal partition “a bad
blunder for England,” but one Dadabhai hoped “may yet be rectified”
through “agitation.” And addressing himself to the growing distance between
Hindus and Muslims in the aftermath of partition, Dadabhai called for

a thorough political union among the Indian people of all creeds
and classes. ... I appeal to the Indian people for this because it is
in their own hands. . . . They have in them the capacity, energy and
intellect, to hold their own and to get their doc share in all walks of
life of which the State Services are but a small purl. State services
am not everything. , Once sell govermnenl In attained, then will

at• vi hay (1896-1910)

I Imre be prosperity enough for all, but not till then. The thorough
t in ion, therefore, of all the people for their emancipation is an abso¬
lute necessity. . . . They must sink or swim together. Without this
union, all efforts will be vain. 28

I IiIn ihoine of national unity was to be echoed by Jinnah at every political
"" • Hng he attended during the ensuing decade, in which he emerged as
IihH u's true “Ambassador of Hindu-Muslim Unity.” 29

I I m mh first met India’s poetess Sarojini Naidu at that Calcutta Congress,
•' I" n In- was “already accounted a rising lawyer and a coming politician,

Uriah as she recalled, by a “virile patriotism.” She was instantly cap¬
tivated by his stunning appearance and “rare and complex temperament”
"id Inis left a most insightful portrait of young Jinnah.

I ill and stately, but thin to the point of emaciation, languid and
Insurious of habit, Mohammad Ali Jinnah’s attenuated form is a de-

II | »Hvo sheath of a spirit of exceptional vitality and endurance. Some-

" 1 orinal and fastidious, and a little aloof and imperious of man-

1,1 1 ike calm hauteur of his accustomed reserve but masks, for those
vv h" I'now him, a naive and eager humanity, an intuition quick and

• • in h r as a woman’s, a humour gay and winning as a child’s—pre-

• mi nr ally rational and practical, discreet and dispassionate in his esti-
mulc and acceptance of life, the obvious sanity and serenity of his
mihIiIIv wisdom effectually disguise a shy and splendid idealism
' Inch Is of the very essence of the man. 30

|IiiiiiiIi I' ll Calcutta inspired with his mission of advancing the cause of
Nl| c.lim unity, perceiving as few of his contemporaries didhow indis-
1“ •''"M'lu '.iich unity was to the new goal of swaraj (“self-government”) that

.. '■ l ,ll( l adopted. He was politician enough to realize, of course, that

""l\ hope <>l succeeding his liberal mentors and friends Dadabhai,

• h. i" ."'huh. and Cokhale as leader of Congress was by virtue of his secular
"" 111 11 1 li uni I national appeal, not through his double minority status. He
, "" 1 ' 1,1,11 "hove all parochial roots and provincial prejudice, a Shakespearian
h ,n nun In 11 garb, with the noblest imprecations of Burke, Mill, and
*’"h ' 1 ,n gi"g in his mind, stirring his heart. Congress’s national political

l" Ml1 .. liii'l become his new dramatic stage, grander and more exciting

*’.h"\ high court. In one short decade after returning from London

h"'l ' 111 "'illy emerged as heir-apparent to the Bombay triumvirate which
1 "ugu'vjs slow moving, political bullock-cart toward the promised land
•I In chilli

' nano militant', revolutionary fad Ion within Congress, led by Mulm-
"id"..i ( I uknmmit/u ("I'VIcikI of the MeopIfT) Mai Cunguclliur Tlluk (1856-

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

1920) and Bengal’s fiery Bipin Chandra Pal (1858-1932), competed, how¬
ever, by then with the moderate “old guard” for control of India’s premier
nationalist organization. Though Tilak and Gokhale both started as Poona
colleagues in public education and national service, they differed funda¬
mentally in many ways, especially with respect to political tactics and phi¬
losophy. The Lokamanya and his “new party” had no faith in Morley’s
promised reforms, rejecting reliance on “pleas or petitions” to British offi¬
cialdom for anything. Boycott was their battle cry—first of British machine-
made cloth and other manufactured imports, later of all British institutions,
including schools, courts, and council chambers. The other side of their
economic plank of boycott was sicadeshi (“of our own country”), stimulat¬
ing indigenous Indian industry, especially cotton cloth woven and spun both
by hand and machine. They made swaraj their goal, but the “self-rule” they
demanded was not that of British citizens but of totally independent In¬
dians. The symbols popularized by Tilak in rousing the mass following he
won among mostly illiterate peasants and urban workers were drawn from
the religious ocean of Hinduism and regional lore, and usually served to
alienate Muslim and other minorities as it won Hindu adherents. British
officials on the spot vainly tried harsher techniques of repression to silence
this mounting opposition—‘Tills for the Earthquake,” Morley called that
method of dealing with nationalism. The most popular leaders were arrested
and deported, including a new “martyr” from the Punjab, Lala Lajpat Rai
(1865—1928), who became a hero as soon as he was arrested in the spring
of 1907 and shipped off to Mandalay prison. The new party immediately
proposed Lajpat Rai as their candidate for next president of Congress.
Pherozeshah and Gokhale had their own candidate, however, the mild-
mannered moderate Calcutta educator, Dr. Rash Behari Ghosh.

The factional split that left Congress torn apart for almost a decade ex¬
ploded at the session in Surat in 1907. Next to Bombay, which had so re¬
cently hosted the Congress, Surat was the strongest bastion of moderate
leadership power, Gujarat’s center of mercantile wealth. Sir Pherozeshah felt
confident that he could keep the peace and control of his organization in
the port of Surat. He had, however, underestimated the passion and stub¬
bornness of Tilak and his followers. As Rash Behari Ghosh moved toward the
rostrum inside the Congress pandal to read his presidential address, Tilak
rose to shout, “Point of order.” He had indicated earlier his intention of
introducing Lajpat Rai’s candidacy from the Congress floor. No one on the
platform “recognized” him, however, yet that did not stop the / jokainanya.
He mounted the platform him,self and headed for the rostrum. Several tough
young "guards’' moved to Intercept Tilak, hut Gokhale warded thorn off,
jumping to IiIn old colleague's delciiNo and protectively extending Ids own

1 mhay (1896-1910)

'Mm-, around Tilak’s body. Most of the delegates were on their feet, shouting
'tinI gesturing. A stiff Maharashtrian slipper was then tossed vigorously onto
tin' stages, hitting both Pherozeshah and Bengal’s venerable Surendranath
Himerjra (1848-1926). Panic and pandemonium ensued. The tent had to be

• h .i red by police and hired guards. For the next nine years Congress re-
"iMined divided into angrily conflicting moderate and revolutionary parties,

• 'ii h claiming to be sole rightful heir to India’s national movement.

In I lie wake of the Surat split, revolutionary violence and official repres-
"I'tii intensified. Tilak was arrested in the summer of 1908, charged with
• •IIIunis writings” for several editorials published in his popular Poona
in 1 " *i|lupcr, Kesari. Tilak represented himself before the high court in
MmiiiI m\’, but immediately after his arrest when he was held without bail,
I'" the services of Jinnah to plead for his release pending trial.

1 1 mli argued valiantly but to no avail, for British justice had closed its
'"‘"•I i" Tilak long before his trial began. And although Jinnah’s argument
^ "" 1 ears, it attests at once to his brilliance as a barrister and the
•llcnglli of his national leadership potential. A pettier man might have found
""ini' mouse (or refusing to plead on behalf of the leader of a political party
H|i|in»lug bis own. Jinnah, however, not only stood up for Tilak at this junc-
bill (Mended him on another charge of sedition in 1916 and won, thus
"""I")', ibr gratitude as well as affectionate admiration of Hindu India’s
. .. conservative leader.

lb. legislative council reforms proposed by Morley and Minto initially
l" m ''MI lor four separately elected Muslim members on the expanded
l"i|i< iliil ( niiiieil of the Viceroy. By the time the Indian council’s bill was
,l " 1 he I i" 1999, however, no fewer than six such seats were reserved on a
-1 iilml legislative council of sixty, more than half of whom remained British
'll' i .l, Minto. moreover, had promised to “appoint” at least two additional
hiii a in nbers as nominees off his own bat if they were not elected by
..* ' "O'.llliienoies such as landholders or municipalities, raising Muslim

• *ul" • h 111 lo eight out of twenty-eight non-official members on the vice-
' ' """"'h. more than the actual ratio of India’s Muslim minority to the

1 r"|'"l"h<"i ol the subcontinent. By 1909 even Minto complained of

*h' ' .. "I representation granted to Mahomedans.” 31 Morley retorted,

It " i/oiii curly speech about their extra claims that started the M.

I *h« hiu | lime, 1 The secretary of slate was by then convinced that “It

•. I *" " 9 "I 1111111 lo Inline plans that will please Hindus without offend-

Muliiiiiieliins, mid we shall be lucky il we don't offend/;o£/i.”

1,1 .pmuic electorate formula, which Jinnah initially rejected on

»'*•'*""I’ 1 "I "ullonul principle, served, in fuel, to raise his personal ronseioiis-
. . . n, 'inIiih Identity. Jinnah was one ..I the find half dozen Muslim mem

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

bers specially elected, in his case from Bombay, to sit on the viceroy’s Cen¬
tral Legislative Council in 1910, three years before he actually joined the
Muslim League. At thirty-five, he was one of the youngest members elected
to that high council and would have stood no chance but for the fact that
two much older knighted Muslim candidates, equally matched and anti¬
pathetical, ousted one another in preliminary skirmishes to choose the “Mus¬
lim candidate.” Jinnah’s secretary recalled that “Discussions went on for
hours and in the end both of them decided that none of them should seek
election, but should send a third candidate, and after careful scrutiny the
choice fell on the 'young lawyer.’ ” 33 That singular honor catapulted Jinnah
to the side of Gokhale, whose “general” Bombay seat had been held before
him by Sir Pherozeshah. The legislative center of India’s government, first
in Calcutta and Simla, later in Delhi, soon became one of Jinnah’s most
important and powerful stages.

Morley’s reforms also introduced Indian participation in British India’s
powerful executive councils, both at Whitehall and in Calcutta-Simla. Two
Indian members were appointed to the secretary of state’s Whitehall Coun¬
cil of India in 1907, and the first Indian to hold the post of law member of
the government of India, Satyendra P. Sinha (1864-1928), took his seat in
1909. A Hindu Brahman by birth, Sinha was, like Jinnah, a barrister and
moderate Congress leader. His legal practice in 1908 was so lucrative that
accepting the government’s invitation meant a cut in his annual income of
L 10,000. Sinha’s first inclination, therefore, was to turn down the viceroy’s
invitation, but Jinnah and Gokhale convinced him to accept the job. His
role in this matter further attests to Jinnah’s strong personal commitment to
the principle of finding the candidate best qualified for any job, regardless
of race, religion, caste, or creed. Muslim League leaders had lobbied for a
Muslim jurist to fill that powerful position in India’s central government.
The League’s president at its 1908 Amritsar session, Syed Ali Imam (1869-
1933), was himself a barrister of London’s Middle Temple and would suc¬
ceed Sinha as law member after the former resigned in November 1910,
establishing the precedent of alternating Hindu Muslim appointees and sub¬
sequent communal parity in all executive appointments. Born as the League
was out of the separate electorate Muslim “affirmative action” demand, that
organization remained most firmly committed to its founding principle, pro¬
posing names of Muslim candidates for every important official vacancy.
Congress, on the other hand, always viewed this principle as anti-national
and undemocratic, even as English liberals like John Morley did. Any “reli¬
gious register,” after all, whether Muslim, Catholic, or Calvinist, was dan¬
gerously subversive to I ho egalitarian foundations of u modem secular
nation, liiirrisln Jlnnali believed ihnl as imieli ns his great benehor mentor

Mom hay (1896-1910)

I mi I and was to rise in the Allahabad Congress of 1910 to second a resolution
ihnl "strongly deprecates the expansion or application of the principle of
parute Communal Electorates to Municipalities, District Boards, or other
I .oral Bodies.” 34

Paradoxically, Jinnah spoke at the end of his first year as the Calcutta
.oil's Muslim member from Bombay.

Calcutta

( 1910 - 15 )

On January 25, 1910, the Honourable Mr. M. A. Jinnah took his seat as
“Muslim member from Bombay” on the sixty-man legislative council con¬
vened in the capital of British India. The old council chamber in the palace
Lord Wellesley had built more than a century earlier was freshly gilded for
this historic meeting, filled to capacity with bejewelled visitors as Viceroy
Minto pompously addressed his government’s newly elected advisers, in¬
cluding Gopal Gokhale, Motilal Nehru, Surendranath Banerjea, and M. A.
Jinnah, predicting, “I am glad to believe that the support of an enlarged
Council will go far to assure the Indian public of the soundness of any
measures we may deem it right to introduce.” 1

Minto’s pious hopes were soon shattered. Jinnah clashed with the viceroy
the very first time he rose to speak in the council, addressing himself to a
resolution that called for an immediate end to the export of indentured In¬
dian laborers to South Africa. The violent repression of Satyagrahis (“Non¬
cooperators”) led by Gandhi in the Transvaal had ignited feelings of in¬
dignation and grief throughout India the year before. Congress then resolved
to “press upon the Government of India the necessity of prohibiting the
recruitment of indentured Indian labour for any portion of the South African
Union, and of dealing with the authorities there in the same manner in
which the latter deal with Indian interests.” 2 This matter came before Cal¬
cutta’s council on February 25, when Jinnah spoke out saying: It is a most
painful question—a question which has roused the feelings of all classes in
the country to the highest pitch of indignation and horror at the harsh and
cruel treatment that is meted out to Indians in South Africa." 8 Minto repri¬
manded him for using the* words “cruel Ireiilmenl." which the viceroy
tier.. "too harsh to he used for a friendly purl of the Empire" within his

• \ I.(IM'ITA (1910-15)

council chambers. “My Lord!” Jinnah responded. “I should feel much in-

• lined to use much stronger language. But I am fully aware of the constitu-
llnu el this Council, and I do not wish to trespass for one single moment.
I hit I do say that the treatment meted out to Indians is the harshest and
i In lecling in this country is unanimous.”

Tin 1 1 first brief exchange reflected Jinnah’s courtroom as well as council
‘hi*’ ll«‘ always chose his words carefully and never retracted any once
iit lured. Mis critics, whether judges, viceroys, or pandits usually received
I m ml I luting tongue lashings for any barb aimed at him. He was not known

• " 'll silent for the slightest reprimand, honing his razor-sharp mind and
"iiK mi die generally duller weapons of logic or wit drawn against them.

I "id Mlnlo, appalled at Jinnah’s response, was struck dumb by it. “Mr.
Il"H\ l"ll India that summer, replaced by a much sharper Liberal states-
Min 11 , Sir (buries Ilardinge (1858-1944), who became one of Jinnah’s fore-
mi"<l olllcial admirers. A career diplomat by training, Hardinge’s sophisti-

• it I l"ii mid intelligence set a new tone of urbanity and responsibility in
1 *li "Hu council. He was John Morley’s choice for India. Lord Kitchener,
tin ii coiiiimindcr-in-chief of the Indian army, had lobbied energetically for
tin \ I. nioyulty lie coveted, but when King Edward VII died in May 1910,
I H' linici lost his most powerful ally. Morley offered India to Hardinge at
tin i"\al funeral. The new viceroy was quick to recognize, shortly after

.Iilug < lulcutta, how debilitating a thorn Bengal’s partition remained in

In* imw domain's body politic. His first major policy recommendation to
Moil* \ •< successor at Whitehall, Lord Crewe (1858-1945), was to reunite
. .'I ' "Ml lug the separate province of Bihar and Orissa at the same time.

1 'ii March 17, 1911, Jinnah introduced his first legislative measure, the
W ill I l ln\ exempt Muslim endowments) Validating Bill that was to emerge
i " x * mi i lain as the very first non-officially sponsored act in British Indian
hi !"i I .oudon's privy council had invalidated testamentary gifts of Muslim
I "I" • I\ led in tax-free “trusts” (wakfs) for ultimate reversion to religious
Inn Ih in I HIM. Jinnah called for legislative reversal of that decision charg-
iiii' ii " '!■' "pposed to the fundamental principles of Islamic Jurisprudence.” 4
i mil ill In" became Jinnah’s most lucrative special field of knowledge and
I* M'd lull n '.i, one lie remained master of at least until 1941, as is attested by
In I iii in I mu tie lea I her-bound set of probate court law reports from 1888-
1 'ii llll preserved in his Wazir mansion library in Karachi. His probate

• ll* "I " I" Include many of India's wealthiest princes, among them the

"i ..'I I Ivdcinbnd. I he uuwnb of Bhopal, and the raja of Mahmudabad.

I " " us llongal's partition did so much to help create the League, King

• • "H"■ ■' mu prise minouneemenl in I )elhi tlinl partition was annulled in
Mf 'i min i ItH I jolted llnil orgiuil/.ullon out of Its loyalist rut The nawnb of

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

Dacca read in Britain’s reversal of partition, the government of India s capit¬
ulation to Congress “agitators,” and a simple new message to all Indians—
“No bombs, no boons!” Together with his announced annulment of partition,
King George V proclaimed his government’s decision to shift the capital of
British India from Calcutta to Delhi’s historic plain, where a new imperial
city was to be built. Delhi had been the capital of Muslim sultans and
Mughal emperors, who reigned over most of the subcontinent since the
early thirteenth century. Delhi remained at the hub of North India s Muslim
population, educational centers, and historic monuments, within easy reach
of Lahore, Agra, Deoband, Aligarh, and Lucknow. On December 23, 1912,
however, when Lord Hardinge passed through Delhi s Chandni Chawk
(“Silver Market”) atop the elephant leading a viceregal procession to the
new capital, Delhi almost became that viceroy’s graveyard. A bomb hurled
into Hardinge’s howdah, killed one of his guards, and lacerated the Vice¬
roy’s back, exposing the shoulder blade. The would-be assassin of one of
India’s most popular viceroys was never apprehended.

Jinnah attended the annual meeting of Congress as well as the council
meeting of the Muslim League, both held in Bankipur in December of 1912.
He had not as yet actually joined the League but was permitted to speak to
its council at Bankipur, supporting a resolution that expanded the League s
goals to include “the attainment of a system of self-government suitable to
India,” to be brought about “through constitutional means, a steady reform
of the existing system of administration; by promoting national unity and
fostering public spirit among the people of India, and by co-operating with
other communities for the said purposes.” 0 A few months later he went to
Lucknow, joining Mrs. Naidu on the platform as an honored guest at the
larger League meeting, where a new more liberal constitution was adopted.
President Shafi in presenting the new constitution noted that “I am in entire
accord with my friend the Hon’ble Mr. Jinnah in thinking that the adoption
of any course other than the one proposed by the Council would be abso¬
lutely unwise.” 6 The League’s first resolution congratulated “the Hon. Mr.
M. A. Jinnah for his skillful piloting” of the Wakf Validating Act through
the Imperial Legislative Council. Faced with such acclaim, Jinnah could
hardly resist renewed appeals to join the Muslim League pressed upon him
that year by its new permanent secretary, Syed Wazir Hasan (1874-1947),
and Maulana Mohammad Ali (1878-1931), revered Pan-Islamic alim and
editor of Comrade, both of whom were deputed to London to lobby there
for Muslim demands, jinnah did agree to join in 1913, but he insisted as a
prior condition that his "loyalty to the Muslim League and the Muslim inter¬
est would in iki way ami at no time Imply even the shadow ol disloyally to
the larger national cause to which his lllc was dedicated, '

< AI.CUTTA(1910-15)

hi April 1913, Jinnah and Gokhale sailed together from Bombay for
Liverpool to meet with Lord Islington, under secretary of state for India
'Hid chairman of their Royal Public Services Commission, on which Ramsay
MacDonald (1868-1937) also served. That leisurely trip was their longest
Inin ludo alone, but no record was preserved by either of the subjects they
diM tissed, though the commission agenda, general council reforms, and
" 11 ' ‘‘ °t attaining Hindu-Muslim unity and ultimately of achieving Indian
Independence were surely among them. Gokhale later told Sarojini, who
ol Ini visited him at his Servants of India Society in Poona before he died,
dt il | omul) “has true stuff in him, and that freedom from all sectarian preju-
dlee which will make him the best ambassador of Hindu-Muslim Unity.” 8
I low Ironic that prediction sounds, yet in his late thirties Jinnah seems to
bin c personified that tragically elusive spirit of communal unity.

|hmnh returned to India in September 1913 and attended the Karachi
' (ingress two days after celebrating his thirty-seventh birthday. Pie had not
'lull'd Ids place of birth for over seventeen years, and he now warmly ex-
I"' d Ills pleasure at finding a number of “personal friends with whom I
| l ' ' 'I in rny boyhood.” 9 He drafted and moved a resolution for reconstruct-

die (,'oimeil of India that called first of all for charging the salary of the
" 11 if hi y of state and his department to the English Home rather than
hidtiii budget, thereby seeking to save Indian taxpayers the burden of
"Miulnliiliig Whitehall’s entire English staff. The new council, Jinnah argued,

1 I' I consist of not fewer than nine members, at least one-third of whom
'•"•ild be 'non-official Indians chosen by a constituency consisting of the
■ I'' I'd 11 n'inbers of the Imperial and Provincial Legislative Councils.” 10 Half
"I dii' iI'liniiiiing nominated members of the council should be “public men
"* "" 1,1 ‘"id ability” unconnected with Indian affairs, the other half, ex-

• " li mi iilllclals with at least ten years of Indian experience, no more than

' " ' ■ ii ' eld. The council was to be purely advisory rather than adminis-
'' ... tenure on it would be limited to five years. Thanks to his work

" dii ; Hwiilution, and indicative of his rising position of leadership within

.. ' | i in mb was chosen to chair a Congress deputation to London in

|"big "I 1911 lo lobby members of Parliament and Whitehall on Lord
1 ... " Nvn proposed new Council of India Bill, Jinnah also seconded a

* " " Id ' (ingress resolution, congratulating the League for adopting “the
1 I .d "I '.. II (lovernment for India within the British Einpire,” and express-
big ' "utplHe iieenrd with the belief that the League has so emphatically
1 ' I*'" d 'd lb. InsI sessions dial the political future of the country depends

d" liimnonloiis working and cooperation of the various communities in
Urn imuiliv""

• Him Kmnelil, jliumli eiilrnlned for Agra, where the Muslim League met

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

on December 30-31,1913, in the former twin capital of the Mughal Empire.

He was busily at work seeking a formula for bringing his two pohtica or¬
ganizations together on a single national platform. His position was unique,
for not only did he belong to Congress and the Muslim League, but he was
also inside the government’s camp, both in London and Calcutta. Not even
Gokhale or Sir Pherozeshah were as strategically positioned to hear all the
views on the major issues affecting India’s political future. At the Agra ses¬
sion of the League, Jinnah proposed postponing reaffirmation of faith m the
principle of “communal representation” for another year, urging his coreli¬
gionists that such special representation would only divide India mo o
watertight compartments.” 13 Congress had jnst deferred action on that ques¬
tion and Jinnah explained there were “many other reasons for his urging
postponement upon the League, though he “could not give any of these rea¬
sons in public.” The latter probably alluded to his shipboard conversations
with Gokhale or London talks with Wedderburn and other M. P.s of the
British Committee of Congress. At any event he was obviously pursuing a
joint platform, such as the one he would help fashion for Lucknow m 1916.
The Muslim League voted, however, to reject Jinnah’s first formal appea o
them, deeming the principle of their affirmative action separate electorate
formula “absolutely necessary” to the League’s immediate future. It was one
issue on which a majority of the League’s members would long remain at

odds with Jinnah. , , e

He sailed again for London in April of 1914. Other members of Jnmahs
prestigious deputation included Congress’s Bengali president-elect, Bhu-
pendra Nath Basu (1859-1924), and Lai Lajpat Kai, who arrived a few
weeks later. Lord Crewe met with the Congress deputation soon aftei they
arrived, finding Jinnah “the best talker of the pack,” though he considered
him “artful” for having “remarked (as it were casually) that they would be
glad if dissents in my council now be recorded and laid before Parliament
on the motion of a Member.” 13 , 1QHQ inis',

By historic eoineidence, Jinnah and Mohandas K. Gandhi (1869 1948)
were both in London at the start of World War I. Barrister Gandhi had gone
to Natal in 1893 to work for an Indian Muslim trading company m South
Africa, and he remained more than two decades, devising and testmg his
S atuaadha (“Hold fast to the Truth”) technique of nonviolent non-coopera¬
tion in the Transvaal as well as in Natal from 1907-14. The war s outbreak
diverted Gandhi’s ship “home” from South Africa to London; when he ar¬
rived there, however, the first message he uttered to the world was U. urge
his countrymen to volunteer for military servic e, and "Think hnpotin ly.
Jlnmih Iittcwlad the gala rwoplioii for CJmidlvl flt London m (•••‘•'I Hotel

i alcutta (1910-15)

I >ul joined neither the army nor the Field Ambulance Training Corps raised
I iv the Mahatma. Jinnah’s own mission had ended in total failure, all En¬
glish hearts and minds were preoccupied with war, with no one giving a
moments thought to Indian reforms. The work of the Islington Commission
went down the same tubes of indifference that swallowed change for the

• iiiincil of India. Morley quit the cabinet in frustration and disgust at how
nngri'ly his younger Liberal colleagues led by Lloyd George, Edward Gray,
inn I Winston Churchill rushed toward the precipice of Armageddon. Pas-
nlwlately impulsive, self-righteous, puffed up with pride and dreams of
i' lory, (hey all expected a swift, easy victory. Kitchener alone, who took

• I in rgo of the War Office with waxed moustaches as sharp as the top of the
Knisei’s helmet, envisioned a long, blood-drenched battle of titans almost
»'i|i mlly matched in manpower and armor. Initially, India became a warmly
9i 11 >| hii live, totally loyal Allied mine of troops, wheat, money, and vital ma¬
il • icl, including leather goods, uniforms, and pig iron shipped west through-
mil I lie war.

In November of 1914, however, when the Ottoman caliph opted to link
In • 1111 lire’s fortune and forces with the Central Powers, rather than joining
I In Miles who had courted him, Indian Muslim loyalties were sorely chal-
leiijfeil, As Islam’s world leader and “deputy of God,” the caliph was revered
I n beyond the limits of the Ottoman Empire. British intelligence feared that
lli. nl/iim of Hyderabad, India’s leading prince, was soon trying to buy
I ml I’.li lilies for possible use in a South Asian “Pan-Islamic Revolt.” Such

I mill n s proved, in fact, completely groundless, and though a few Muslim

milbi I me I to he disarmed the following year in Singapore, virtually every
Mu llin soldier in the British Indian Army proved “true to his salt,” and
Cii 11 hi 11 Norlh-West Frontier as well as Punjabi Muslims remained with
nl In mid Gurkhas the backbone of British India’s army. Muslim regiments
.. without defection in Mesopotamia itself, as well as on the

• im pi lull mill Western European fronts. The Muslim League held no meet-
mi’ Iniwrver, in December 1914, reflecting the deeply divided feelings of
in l< nil r,. .iikI their fears of inadvertently providing a forum for expressions

i i I .Iniiile, anti-British sentiment.

lb 1 11111111 ry of 1915 Jinnah was home. The Gujarat Society ( Gurjar
'iitl'lml, which lie led, gave a garden party to welcome Gandhi back to
bull.i I lin Malialinn’s ambulance corps had sailed for France without its

• .I' i ill lei hr had a slight nervous breakdown in London and decided to

II Inin Imini' In I inlia instead, thus prolonging his life by some three decades,
i imIlil u h spouse lo 11 1 ninh\s urbane welcome was that lie was “glad to find
1 R bilmmeiliui mil only belonging lo Ills own region's Sabha, hut chairing

JINN AH OF PAKISTAN

it ”16 Had he meant to be malicious rather than his usual ingenuous self,
Gandhi could not have contrived a more cleverly patronizing barb, tor he
was not actually insulting Jinnah, after all, just informing every one of his
minority religious identity. What an odd fact to single out for comment
about this multifaceted man, whose dress, behavior, speech, and manner
totally belied any resemblance to his religious affiliation! Jinnah, m fact,
hoped by his Anglophile appearance and secular wit and wisdom to con¬
vince the Hindu majority of his colleagues and countrymen that he was,
indeed, as qualified to lead any of their public organizations as Gokhale or
Wedderburn or Dadabhai. Yet here, in the first public words Gandhi uttered
about him, every one had to note that Jinnah was a “Mahomedan. That hist
statement of Gandhi’s set the tone of their relationship, always at odds with
deep tensions and mistrust underlying its superficially polite manners, never
friendly, never cordial. They seemed always to be sparring even before they
put on any gloves. It was as if, subconsciously they recognized one anot er
as “natural enemies,” rivals for national power, popularity, and charismatic
control of their audiences, however small or awesomely vast they might

beC Gokhale’s death in February 1915, followed a few months later by the
demise of Sir Pherozeshah, left Jinnah virtually alone (Dadabhai remaine
in London for his final two years) at the head of Bombay’s moderate Con¬
gress. Tilak, released from Burmese prison exile in June of 1914, was the
undisputed hero and national leader of the “New Congress party. The
Lokamanya’s popularity was unrivaled, yet he was almost sixty and ailing,
and would rely more on legal remedies-some entrusted to Jmnah-than rev¬
olutionary agitation for the last half decade of his life. A new lummary in
the constellation of India’s nationalist leaderslup was Mrs. Annie Besant
(1874-1933), who came to Madras to preside over the Tlieosophical Society
founded by her guru, Madame Blavatsky, and stayed to edit New India and
start her Home Rule League in 1915, thus inspiring Tilak to do the same a
year later in Poona. Mrs. Besant’s Irish temper, silver-tongued oratory, and
inexhaustible energy were focused in 1914-15 on seeking to reunify the still
divided Congress. Jinnah did his best to help, working dexterously at the
same time to bring Congress and the Muslim League together for their

annual meetings in Bombay. ,

The December 1915 sessions of Congress and the League weie the first
held within walking distance of one another, facilitating attendance at both
by members interested in fostering Htadt.-Mn.lta unity and hammering out
a Single nationalist platform. Satyendra Sinl.u, who presided over that Con-
gims, was mil as yH appointed undersmvlury at sl.de In Whitehall. Ho

' M .CUTTA (1910-15)

.mil Jinnah now worked together to fashion a formula agreeable to all po-
llllnil factions and communities. While reiterating Congress's general major
demands for reform, Sinha focused on three specific matters concerning
" Ilk’ll be had found “practical unanimity of opinion.” The first called for
Hi my commissions for qualified Indians and “military training for the peo-
|’li*," the second for extension of local self-government, and the third for
di'volopment of our commerce and our industries including agriculture.”

I‘be Muslim League met under the presidency of Bengali barrister
Mii/linr-ul-Haque (1866-1921), another Congress liberal committed to
Inililoning a joint platform acceptable to both organizations. Several League
!• Hi In s had argued against holding any meeting this year, fearing that what
" ii* said at it might “embarrass” the government during the war; but Presi-
il' i iil 11 in pie argued that

< )ur silence in these times would have been liable to ugly and mis-
• blcvous interpretation. . . . There is no such thing as standing still
lu Ibis world. Either we must move forward or must go backward.

.It is said that our object in holding the League contemporane¬
ously with the Congress in the same city is to deal a blow at the
Independence of the League, and to merge its individuality with that
"I llie Congress. Nothing could be further from the truth. Commu-
nllles like individuals love and cherish their individuality. . . . When
Unity is evolved out of diversity, then there is real and abiding na-
llniiid progress. 16

11 k’I' d were, nonetheless, many members of the League who strongly re-
i i'd miy effort at rapprochement. Angry dissidents led by the mercurial
*' liinl.imi I lasrat Mohani (1875-1951), moved to adjourn this meeting of the

I • 'ii 1 ,nr ill the start of its second sitting on December 31, 1915. Jinnah had
|u»l I"'i'ii recognized by the chair when Maulana Mohani jumped up to
••"Hi "I'oint of order!” The president ordered him to “please sit down.”

'•ili. i I bdii .shouting orthodox Muslims rose inside the huge tent erected
hi ii III. sonshore on Marine Lines to support Mohani’s attempt to adjourn

• In Diddling before Jinnah could move the creation of a special committee
i" ili ill ,i scheme of reforms. Some angry mullahs, who filled the visitor rows

• il M'lik nlurted. yelling at President Haque: “If you are a Mohammedan,
"ii Hindi! In appear like a Mohammedan. The Holy Quran asks you to dress

dl i i Muliiimmodan. Yon must speak the Mohammedan tongue. You pose to
I" 1 * Muliinnniddaii leader, bill yon can never be a Mohammedan leader.” 17
’'"ill'll '"ill Weslerii, revivalist sentiments would be hurled at Jinnah for

II .. "I Ids Ilf*. even after lie was luiiled the League’s Qunid-i Azam

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

(“Great Leader”). A number of bearded Pathans in the audience rushed
the dais, shouting angrily in Pashtu. Hasrat Mohani called Urdu the only
“proper language” in which to hold Muslim League proceedings. Every one 1
in the crowd of several thousands was standing, many shouting at once,
some wildly waving their arms. Jinnah helped escort the ladies m atten¬
dance outside and found Bombay’s commissioner of police, Mr. Edwardes
nonchalantly standing near the tent, keeping his men inert. Jinnah told
Edwardes that the crowd inside had become so disorderly the meeting could
not proceed and that those causing the disturbance were public “visitors,
who had been admitted "out of courtesy and by ticket.” 18 He asked the c0 ™’ |
missioner’s help to clear the tent of nonmembers, offering “to refund the
money instantly” of anyone who had paid for a ticket. Edwardes refused to
be of such sensible service, however, insisting he would use his force only
to clear the tent entirely if informed that the situation inside was out of
control.” Jinnah preferred to urge President Plaque to adjourn the meeting
and he met with the League's leaders later that day in the presidents house ,
to plan for the next day’s session.

The Muslim League was reconvened on New Year’s Day 1916 m Bom¬
bay’s elegant Taj Mahal Hotel. Attendance was strictly limited to regular
members and the press. President Haque opened the meeting at 10:00 am., 1
commenting briefly on the previous disorders, then called upon Mr. Jinnah,
who was "received with loud cheers.” 19 As president of the Bombay Muslim
Students’ Union, Jinnah was the “idol of the youth,” and “uncrowned king
of Bombay.” 20 Raven-liaired with a moustache almost as full as Kitchener s
and lean as a rapier, he sounded like Ronald Coleman, dressed like Anthony
Eden, and was adored by most women at first sight, and admired or envied
by most men. He reported Commissioner Edwardes's pig-headed behavior
to cries of “shame” from his audience, then moved the unanimously earned
resolution to appoint a special committee “to formulate and frame a scheme
of reforms” in consultation with other “political” organizations-the two
parties of Congress-which would allow them to "demand” a single plat¬
form of reforms “in the name of United India.” 21 That resolution was greeted
with loud applause. A committee of seventy-one leaders of the Muslim
League was appointed, representing every province of British India, and
chaired by Jinnah’s close friend and client, Raja Sir Mohammad All Mo¬
hammad Khan Bahadur, the raja of Mahmudabad (1879-1931). Committee
members from Bombay included the Aga Khan (1877-1965) and Jmmn;
those from the Punjab were led by Mian Sir Muhammad Shaft (1860-1932)
and Minn Sir tal i Husain (1877-1936): while the Bengal contingent had
A, K. ta.lul llni) (1893 1962} In Us ranks. Boforr that meeting In the Taj

CALCUTTA (1910-15)

• MCled, President Haque remarked upon “the great work done for the
I 1 'iigue (risen Phoenix-like from the ashes’) by his friend Mr. Jinnah,” add-
!nj',: "The entire Mohammedan community of India owed him a deep debt
i>l gratitude, for without his exertions they could not have met in Bombay.”
In a unique tribute, the president then turned to Jinnah, saying, “Mr. Jinnah,
u c I lie Musalmans of India thank you.” 22 It was the first such tribute Jinnah
received from the Muslim League, but would not be his last.

Lucknow to Bombay
( 1916 - 18 )

For Jinnah, 1916 was a year of national fame and good fortune. After help¬
ing to save the Muslim League from dissolution in Bombay he was elected
to lead it to new heights of hope in Lucknow, capital of the once mighty
Mughal nawabs of Oudh. While Europe tore itself apart all along the
poison gas-filled western front, India advanced, under Jinnah’s inspiring
leadership toward a political horizon that seemed ablaze with the golden
dawn of imminent freedom.

Jinnah was re-elected for a second term to Bombay’s Muslim seat on the
Central Legislative Council and used that forum to good advantage in
presenting the Congress-League proposals, once drafted, to London. Con¬
gress had appointed its own committee headed by Motilal Nehru (1861-
1931), who invited its members to his palatial Allahabad house in April to
discuss the proposed reforms with League leaders. Part of the fortune he
had earned as a lawyer was lavished on hospitality and support for Con¬
gress and for Mrs. Besant’s Home Rule League, which Motilal funded most
generously. The elder Nehru admired Jinnah, introducing him to friends at
this time as “unlike most Muslims ... as keen a nationalist as any of us.
He is showing his community the way to Hindu-Muslim unity.” 1 For a while
they supported one another in the Central Legislative Council, but by the
late 1920’s Motilal and Jinnah became bitter rivals. Motilal, a fierce advo¬
cate and tenacious wrestler, wanted personally to lead India’s nationalist
movement to independence, or hoped at least to bequeath such power to
his son. Jinnah, the Lincoln’s Inn barrister, would never rest content simply
to assist a provincial pleader, no matter how great his fortune happened
to bo.

Timl April, ns (Andress mid tin- l.oagUCt labored 111 Allahabad to draft

LUCKNOW TO BOMBAY (1916-18)

the “Freedom Pact” that was to be sealed at Lucknow, Dublin lay shattered
In ruins tinder martial law. The Easter Rising of 1916 was as brutally
crushed by Kitchener's army in Ireland as was General John Nixon’s Indian
army, by disease, incompetence, and Turkish troops in Mesopotamia that
•iitrne month. Contrary to all rational expectation, shattering every civilized
hope and dream, the war continued, intensifying rather than abating in its
blind fury with the incredible death toll of its rage mounting every moment.
Indian demands for direct representation with the self-governing "dominions
III the Imperial Conference intensified. Crewe left the India Office, replaced
by Austen Chamberlain (1863-1937) in May. Hardinge found it impossible
lo ignore Indian demands for a greater role in deliberations, agreeing that
Imlias claim to a representative voice at all imperial conferences was just.
With Curzon and Kitchener still dominating the War Cabinet, however,
Hardinge was ignored. By mid-1918 he left India and was replaced as
Wccroy by an uninspired and uninspiring cavalry captain, Lord Chelmsford
(IK68-I933).

from his meeting in Allahabad, Jinnah went north to Darjeeling to
UNenpe the next two months of intense Bombay heat by vacationing at the
•iiimmer home of his client and friend. Sir Dinshaw Manockjee Petit (1873-
nra). The Petits were one of Bombay’s wealthiest Parsi families, textile
magnates, whose vast fortune was begun by Sir Dinshaw’s enterprising great
grandfather, who came to Bombay from Surat in 1785 and worked as a
.hipping clerk and dubash ("two-language” interpreter) for the British East
Indiii Company. French merchants who dealt with this bright, very small
Lusi clerk dubbed him “Le petit Parsi The nickname became his de-
Imidants surname. His son Manockjee Petit founded Bombay’s first suc-
I • "Mill cotton mill, which grew into the sprawling Manockjee Mills complex
I" Tnrdco. The first baronet Sir Dinshaw started Bombay’s powerful Mffl-
I hvuiTs’ Association in 1875, which he chaired from 1879-94. He also served
h one of five trustees of the Bombay Parsi community’s most sacred mat¬
in-. marriage, succession laws, and proper disposition of the dead upon the
1 ewers of Silence. The elder Sir Dinshaw had been instrumental in securing
I'lllbli legal recognition and public promulgation of the Parsi Succession
mill Marriage acts, which he personally helped administer. The Petit family
Wlls l '" ls " ot onI y among the richest, but also one of the most devout,
mi tlimlox Parsi families in Bombay by the end of the nineteenth century.

Will, the death of the first Sir Dinshaw In 1901, his entire, name, fortune,

. 1 "'Hgioiis duties anil responsibilities passed on to his son, whose first

■ lillil and only daughter, llnliinbiil, had been born file previous year, on
l ■ dunary 111, 1900, lluttin, as she eimie In lie eiillcd, was a thoroughly c»-
'liiinlliig elill.l, preeoelinisly hrlghl, glfled In every nr I, lieimtlful In every

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

way. As she matured, all of her talents, gifts, and beauty were magnified
in so delightful and unaffected a manner that she seemed a fairy princess,
almost too lovely, too fragile to be real. And her mind was so alert, her
intellect so lively and probing that she took as much interest in politics as
she did in romantic poetry and insisted on attending every public meeting
held in Bombay during 1916, always sitting, of course, in the first row,
chaperoned by her "multimillionaire philanthropist” maiden aunt, Miss

Mamabai Petit. 3 , ,

That summer when Ruttie was sixteen and Jinnah at least forty, they
shared the Petit chateau within view of Mount Everest, perched 7,000 feet
high in the idyllic “Town of the Thunderbolf’-Darjeeling-where only the
choicest tea plants and the silent snow-clad mountain peaks and isolated
trails witnessed the passionate glances of longing and love that passed be¬
tween these two. , _ , _ . . .

That October in 1916, Jinnah presided over the Bombay Provincial
Conference in Alimedabad, the textile capital of Gujarati wealth and power.
Jinnah proposed transforming provincial governments, such as that of Bom¬
bay into virtually autonomous administrations responsible to elected repre¬
sentatives of the people, “Muslims and Hindus, wherever they are in a
minority” having “proper, adequate and effective representation. As to all
district and municipal governments, Jinnah reiterated the arguments of
Liberals Ripon and Motley, insisting they "should be wholly elected . . .
that the present official control exercised by the Collectors and Commis¬
sioners should be removed; that the Chairman should be elected by the
Boards and the ex offrcio President should be done away with; that a por¬
tion of Excise revenue or some other definite source of revenue should be
made over to these Bodies so that they may have adequate resources at their
disposal for the due performance of their duties.” 4 It would have meant no
less than transforming the all-powerful Indian Civil Service into true ser¬
vants of responsible Indian opinion. Jinnah’s radical proposals for change
did not, however, stop there. He also demanded an end to the unjust ap¬
plication of the Arms Act to the people of India from which the Europeans
are exempted”; called for the repeal of the Press Act; less resort to the
“martial law” Defence of India Act, specifically denouncing its recent appli¬
cation in banning Mrs. Besant from Bombay; and immediate enactment of
a “free and compulsory” measure of elementary education. He insisted that
Indians should have long since been admitted to royal commissions in the
army and navy, asking, “If Indians arc good enough to fight as sepoys and
privates, why are they not good enough to occupy the position o officers?
jin, mil concluded liis Bombay < loiileremv address with the all-absorbing

MICKNOW TO BOMBAY (1916-18)

I believe all thinking men are thoroughly convinced that the keynote
of our real progress lies in the goodwill, concord, harmony and co-
operation between the two great sister communities. The true focus of
progress is centered in their union. . . . But the solution is not diffi¬
cult. . . . 6

jinnah was speaking as an advocate for the Muslim community as a
wliolo. He was not expressing his own political ideology or reflecting his
"'vii experience. The burden of sacrifice, he argued, fell upon the majority

• 'immunity, yet their reward would be commensurate.

I would, therefore, appeal to my Hindu friends to be generous and
liberal and welcome and encourage other activities of Muslims even

II it involves some sacrifice in the matter of separate electorates.

. . It is a question ... of transfer of the power from the bureau-

rniey to democracy. Let us concentrate all our attention and energy
mi this question alone for the present. The Hindus and the Muslims
•Iioi iId stand united and use every constitutional and legitimate means
In ('licet that transfer as soon as possible. . . . We are on a straight
11 mil; the promised land is within sight. “Forward” is the motto and
i lour course for young India. 7

Never was Jinnah more optimistic. The future for India seemed as bright,
lull "I life, hope, and light as did his own future with Ruttie. They were
I"hii In different communities, yet love scaled every height, reduced to
' "I'I'I'' nil burners. So at least it must have seemed to him then, at the peak
»'i Ilia creative political powers, on the road to his triumph at Lucknow.

I n i lie went to Calcutta, where the Imperial Legislative Council still
"" 1 I" 1 11,1 winter session, the New Delhi of Luytens and Baker rising so
"I""!' "" ilie spacious plain south of the old city’s massive wall and gates
Ibnl 11 """lil ""I be ready for council use till the late 1920’s. Before October
t "'l ,| l |"iimli was able to convince eighteen other elected members of

• 'll'"bn’< council to sign his “Memorandum of the Nineteen,” which was
lie ii pH M illed lo the viceroy and sent on to Whitehall. The memorandum 8
'!' """"I'd 11 in I elected representatives of legislative councils should select

"I hull..'iiibers who would, in future, serve on executive councils. Legis-

1 ■ ..‘IIn. moreover, "should have a substantial majority of elected

' l " ' "Inllvi".. ami tile Irancliise should be “broadened,” with “Muslims
"• Ihiidii', wherever they are in a minority, being given proper and acle-

" pii'M'iilnlloii." A supremo council of not fewer than 1.50 members,
Mill pi"' Inclnl councils ol Irom (10 lo 100 members were recommended.

• '! wen* In enjoy grenler responsibilities and purllumenlitry freedoms,
‘"d lln. |ii i'iilion nl the secretary ol stall 1 should be abolished, replaced

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

by two permanent undersecretaries, with one being Indian, with salaries
“placed on the British estimates.” In any scheme of imperial federation,
“India should be given through her chosen representatives a place similar
to that of the self-governing Dominions.” Provincial governments should be
made autonomous, a “full measure” of local self-government was demanded
“immediately,” the “right to carry arms” should be granted to Indians “on
the same conditions as to Europeans,” and Indian youths should be equally
eligible for royal commissions in the armed forces.

The memorandum provided a skeletal constitution for an Indian domin¬
ion which, had this proposal been accepted by the British after World
War I, could have taken its place within the British Commonwealth, united,
loyal to every ideal for which the Allies had fought, progressively modern¬
izing under responsible leadership. The war was still far from over, how¬
ever, and the full report of how Indian arms had sustained their worst
defeat in Mesopotamia was as yet to be disclosed, reducing British faith in
anything Indian to its lowest point, even as the Revolution soon to rock
Russia would strip the Allies of their eastern wing. The British War Cabinet
tragically lacked the vision, or desire, or energy, to focus attention upon and
take the outstretched hand of united India. The winter of 1916 had offered
Great Britain, as well as India, one of those rare opportunities in history
when a cresting wave could be caught and ridden toward a welcoming
shore, but if missed, left to crash with murderous impact on the heads of
those too preoccupied, timid, or ill-prepared to seize the swiftly changing
moment.

Jinnah caught a spectacular ride on the crest of a formula his ingenious
legal mind had fashioned, and which he was able to convince Congress
President A. C. Mazumdar to accept, after meeting with him for two days
in Calcutta in mid-November. The key to their Lucknow Pact lay in agree¬
ing upon percentages of guaranteed “Muslim members” for each of the
legislative councils, one-third at the center and in Bombay, one-half in the
Punjab, 40 percent in Bengal, 30 percent in the United Provinces, 25 percent
in Bihar and Orissa, and 15 percent in the Central Provinces and in Madras.
Except for the Punjab and Bengal, where Muslim representation was slightly
less than the fraction demographic equivalence warranted, the minority
community received a louder legislative voice than population estimated
alone would have dictated. As an even more vital safeguard to reassure
Muslims who feared losing Islamic identity within a future “Hindu Raj,"
the pact provided that

No bill, nor any clauses thereof, nor n resolution introduced by a non-

official member ullccling one or (In' other community, which question

I IJCKNOW TO BOMBAY ( 1916-18)

is to be determined by the members of that community in the Legis-
ative Council concerned, shall be proceeded with, if three-fourths of
he members of that community in the particular Council, Imperial or
I rovmcial, oppose the bill or any clause thereof or the resolution."

ilnnnli left no loopholes in the contracts he drafted.

"All that is great and inspiring to the common affairs of men, for which
noblest and most valiant of mankind have lived and wrought and suf-
„ a | es and a)I climes > is moving India out of its depths,”
Vl' Wifi lreS ‘ dent J mnah from ^ Muslim League's rostrum on December

The whole country is awakening to the call of its destiny and is scan-

.? , e new horizons with eager hope. A new spirit of earnestness,

' " )dence ™ d resolution is abroad in the land. In all directions are
' nnMo the stirrings of a new life. The Musalmans of India would be
, " 0 th f m ®elves and the traditions of their past, had they not
d"U"d lo the full the new hope that is moving India's patriotic sons
to day, or had they failed to respond to the call of their country.

Mato gaze, like that of their Hindu fellow-countrymen, is fixed on
llir* future.

IInI. gentlemen of the All-India Muslim League, remember that the
I'N.'e ol your community and of the whole country is at this moment
y° u - Th e decisions that you take in tins historic hall and at
7“ l ® ic sessi ° n of League, will go forth with all the force and
""r.to l iat can legitimately be claimed by the chosen leaders and
ii , |i"W"tntives of 70 million Indian Musalmans. On the nature of
' i <'cisions > will depend, in a large measure, the fate of India’s

.' 1 "duts unity, and of our common ideals and aspirations for

• ••MMiiiii lional freedom. 10

I"""' 1, Would never again speak so passionately from a public platform. He
T" ' til "ironucnitic British “shallow, bastard and desperate political max-
"" "Hi'» Hong Into the face of Indian patriots,” noting such cliches as

.'to' 11 1(1 R°vem themselves,” and “Democratic institutions can-

‘‘to Mm b o In the environment of the East,” rejecting them all as “baseless

1 " 1 1 I * i '"'l«l “He living and vigorous spirit of patriotism and

".;. | '“' l, '™' , «'l«H'aKW • . . this pent-up altruistic feeling and energy of

"" ' ' India's "pulse.” Ho said, “the most signifi-

. . . '"’I " 1 " 1 ""l" vl »f 'I'll s l’lrlt Is that it has taken its rise from a

.. . ""W''""' 1 " 1" ll"' direction of imtloiml unity which has brought

. . Mll “ ll "'» higcll'W Involving brotherly service for the common

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

cause.” 11 This vital portion of his Lucknow address later proved so embar¬
rassing to the League's goals that it was excised from the official pamphlet
subsequently published and reproduced by advocates of the Pakistan Move¬
ment. Such censorship was, however, surely as misguided as misleading, or
to ignore the potent power of Jinnah's commitment to Hindu-Muslim unity
in 1916 would make it impossible fully to appreciate the tenacity of his later
determination to bring Pakistan to fruition. Jinnah understood perfectly that
India’s only hope of emerging as a national entity, independent and strong
from under the heel of British imperial rule was through prior abatement
of communal fears, suspicions, and residual anxieties. His standing within
Congress was such that he managed to persuade colleagues there of the
overriding national value of conceding a large enough quota of elected
legislative council seats to Muslims, to be able to convince the League that
joining forces with Congress in articulating a single national set of demands
was in fact, in their own best “communal” interest. This delicately nego¬
tiated settlement attested as much to his remarkable legal talents as it did
to his passionate nationalist commitment.

Dynamic optimism made Jinnah predict that at least half 1 our constitu¬
tional battle” had been “won already." The “united Indian demand, based
on the actual needs of the country and framed with due regard to time and
circumstances, must eventually prove irresistible. . . . With the restoration
of peace the Indian problem will have to be dealt with on bold and generous
lines and India will have to be granted her birth-right as a free, responsible
and equal member of the British Empire.” 12 It all seemed so clear and
simple then, so rational. The Congress-League plan, called the Lucknow
Pact, provided a blueprint for independent India's constitution. Jinnah had,
moreover, worked out every step for translating his scheme into legislative
reality.

After you have adopted the scheme of reforms you should see that
the Congress and die League take concerted measures to have a Bill
drafted by constitutional lawyers as an amending Bill to the Govern¬
ment of India Act which embodies the present constitution of our
country. This Bill, when ready, should be adopted by the Indian Na¬
tional Congress and the All-India Muslim League and a deputation oi
leading representative men from both the bodies should be appointed
to see that the Bill is introduced in the British Parliament and
adopted. For that purpose we should raise as large a fund as possible
to supply the sinews of war until our aim and object are fulfilled. ' I

Hi, mind raced years ahead of most of his contemporaries British and
Indian alike, UnlurUmiUuly. Hi.' Lucknow Pad was never Implemented, Imt

LUCKNOW TO BOMBAY (1916-18)

ils adoption marked the high point of Indian nationalist unity and provided
ns liberal and rational a constitutional framework for governing the sub¬
continent of South Asia as any subsequent plan devised after years of labor,
vast expenditure, and much precious blood had been wasted. British rulers
weie not quite ready, however, to apply the Wilsonian principle of “self-
■ 1 ©termination” to their Indian empire.

Congi ess met just a few days before the League in the same historic
K'aisar Bagh ( Royal Garden”) of Lucknow, its first reunified session since

I In- 1907 split at Surat, attracting more than 2,300 delegates. “Blessed are the
pflflGe-makers, said President Mazumdar, welcoming Tilak and his aging

mow party back to the fold. Turning to the Hindu-Muslim “question,”
Muzumdar announced it

lias been settled and the Hindus and Mussalmans have agreed to
make a united demand for Self-Government. The All-India Congress
< Committee and the representatives of the Moslem League who re¬
cently met in conference at Calcutta have, after two days’ delibera-
lions, in one voice resolved to make a joint demand for a Representa¬
tive Government in India. . . , 14

I link ever the political realist, remarked, “We are ready to make a common
• miinc with any set of men. I shall not hold back my hand even from the

. .’uucracy if they come forward with the scheme that will promote the

" • IItire of our Nation.” 15

I m mahs triumph was unmarred. The complete contract he had written
" a/, accepted by both parties. Now he was ready to put it to the acid test
"I personal application. He found a way to unite the two subjects upper-
M""'l in his mind and approached Sir Dinshaw Petit with a seemingly ab-
•lnit I question of what his views were about inter-communal marriages.” 16
' ""*lil billy off his guard,” Ruttie’s father “expressed his emphatic opinion
,ImI II would considerably help national integration and might ultimately
I""' 1 be Ih® fi na l solution to inter-communal antagonism.” Jinnah could
""I lim e composed a better response! He wasted no words in further cross-
> 'Miiiimllon, informing his old friend that he wanted to marry his daughter.

I HiinIiuw was taken aback,” as Justice Chagla, who was then assisting

I I .'■ 1,1 l,is ‘'hamhers, so vividly recalled, “He had not realised that his

.*'• 'night have serious personal repurcussions [.sic]. He was most in-

1 * ilM, l M ’bisecl to countenance any such idea which appeared to him
"b Mill mid Iiilitu,stje,”

1 ""'•ill ‘M'gned ns eloquently, ns lorcefully ns he alone could, hut to no
'* l, l! ^ lb' H |?i l b' Nl blN dream ol .spreading communal harmony and loving
Miiih w iin thus rudely Jolted, Sir Dinsliaw never agreed, indeed, never spoke

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

as a friend to Jinnah after that hour of such a hitter and rude awakening to
what everyone else in Bombay already knew. Nor would he sanction the
marriage under any circumstances. First he forbid Ruttie ever to see Jinnah
again—at least while she remained a minor under his palatial roof of fine
marble. Then he sought legal remedies, filing an injunction to prevent their
marriage once she came of age, based on the Farsi Marriage Act; but he was
pitted against a barrister who rarely lost any case and would gladly have
died before surrendering in this matter. Predictably perhaps, Ruttie’s pas¬
sionate devotion to her self-chosen husband-to-be only intensified, thanks
to her father’s adamant insistence that she never see him again. Juliet-like,
she would not be deterred by prejudice or the preference of her parents.
Sir Dinshaw met his own match in stubborn resolution twice over in this
long-suffering committed young couple. Silently, patiently, passionately they
waited till Ruttie would attain her majority at eighteen and married just a
few months after that, as soon as the last legal obstacle could be slashed
aside by Jinnah’s invincible courtroom sword.

The German and Ottoman armies proved as frustratingly difficult and
far more deadly than Ruttie’s father. The Mespot Disaster, or Bastard War,
as the dreadful Iraqi desert tragedy to British Indian arms came to be
called, led to many angry questions in Parliament and long inquiries that
revealed utter incompetence in the shipment of military medical supplies
and other vital materiel from Indian ports to the Persian Gulf. Secretary of
State Chamberlain accepted the entire “blame,” though hardly deserved,
as his own, resigning from command of the India Office in mid-1917.
Thanks to that sacrificial act, however, Liberal Edwin Montagu (1879-1924)
was placed in charge of India and rose in the House of Commons on August
20, 1917, to announce that the new, inspiring “policy of His Majesty s Gov¬
ernment, with which the Government of India are in complete accord, is
that of the increasing association of Indians in every branch of the admin¬
istration and the gradual development of self-governing institutions with a
view to the progressive realisation of responsible government in India as
an integral part of the British Empire.” Here, at last, appeared to be the
promise of “dominion status” that political leaders throughout India had
awaited since the war began. Nationalist eyes glossed over the “gradual
development" and “progressive realisation," reading only the "self-governing
institutions” and “responsible government” mantras in Montagu’s formula.
Imperialist Curzon rather than Montagu sat on the Home government’s all-
powerful inner circle War Cabinet and managed with various official “safe¬
guards” adroitly to sabotage every major reform that was to emerge during
Montagu’s tenure at Whitehall. In the winter of 1917, however, Edwin

1,1K'KNOW TO BOMBAY ( 1916-18 )

Montagu became the first secretary of state for India actually to visit the
'ill(continent while holding that high office.

I lie ancient complexity of India, its pluralism and paradox affected
Montagu deeply as it did most visitors from afar, though he had toured the
< iHmiry once before in 1913, and, as a Jew, considered himself ‘'an Oriental.”
Mi Imd never seen so many people, so much poverty, amid so ostentatious
'• 'll',play of wealth and luxury. India fascinated and terrified him so that by
'I"’ ''"‘I of his journey he was thoroughly exhausted, frustrated, and drained.

• " I iiet, poor lugubrious Montagu was traumatized by India, flattered by

• It' 1 magnanimity of her welcome, shocked at the magnitude of her problems
""I plight, and disoriented by the official royal treatment he received.

* *1 nil the political leaders Montagu talked with in India, Jinnah im-
l ,M "'I him most: “Young, perfectly mannered, impressive-looking, armed
in lhr» teeth with dialectics, and insistent upon the whole of his scheme. . . .

I' It eniy | Chelmsford tried to argue with him, and was tied up into knots.
I'mimIi In a very clever man, and it is, of course, an outrage that such a man
In H i M I hi vc no chance of running the affairs of his own country.” 17 Montagu
""Miliil in his diary:

Mi ' I si I to India means that we are going to do something, and some-
ililng big. I cannot go home and produce a little thing or nothing; it
""i ,i be epochmaking, or it is a failure; it must be the keystone of the
inline history of India. . . . Nothing is wanting in comfort . . . Iam

• ml the stuff to carry this sort of thing off. For the first time in my
hh I wish I looked like Curzon. . . . I wish Lloyd George were here;

I n Will the whole British Cabinet had come; I wish Asquith were here.

M "lie ol India’s misfortunes that I am alone, alone, alone the per-
"ii * hut hits got to carry this thing through. 18

Mesa ill, fresh out of prison thanks to Jinnah’s personal appeal to
ihi» Ihmie minister on her behalf, invited Montagu to attend the Calcutta
»•» ni-i> m iiv**i which she was to preside that December. “Oh, if only Lloyd
lw"Mt' wi'io In charge of this thing!” Montagu moaned to his diary. “He
#1 "U nl eiiiii Ne, dash down to the Congress and make them a great oration.
1 "" I'" '' "!' <l Irom doing this. It might save the whole situation. But the

.. . "I India have carefully arranged our plans so that we shall be

W Ibanl'ih when the Congress, the real Indian political movement, is in
' “ I i • I Min llesinit was the first woman, the only Englishwoman, to be

• Mnl pii Nlilent of dir Congress, her reward for the suffering she expe-
M‘i" I nil'i hi i arrest in mid-year for “seditious journalism.” Jinnah took

h'li" "I the Hiiinlmv branch of her Home Rule League immediately after

EJ2 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN I

Mrs. Besant’s internment on June IS, 1917, and Ruttie was one of her most I
ardent admirers. Just under 5,000 delegates and almost as many visitors I
attended the Calcutta Congress, where Jinnah moved the most important I
resolution calling for implementation of the Lucknow Pact reforms, a reso- 1
lution carried by acclamation. A few days later Jinnah moved much the
same resolution before the Muslim League, which “strongly urges upon the I
Government the immediate introduction of a Bill embodying the reforms I
contained in the Congress-League Scheme of December, 1916, as the first !
step towards the realization of responsible government.” As the prospect o*
responsible government appeared to draw closer, many of his League cohj
leagues were growing more concerned that Muslim interests would be ig- I
nored by the Hindu majority. Jinnah reassured them, arguing: “If seventy I
milli o n Muslims do not approve of a measure, which is carried by a ballot I
box do you think that it could be carried out and administered in this
country? Muslims should not have the fear that the Hindus can pass any I
legislation, as they are in a majority, and that would be the end of thm
matter.” 20 He strongly advised the Muslim League not to be “scared away 1
by “your enemies . . . from the co-operation with the Hindus, which is
essential tor the establishment of self-government.” 21 1

Maulana Mohammad Alt had been elected to preside over the Muslim!
Leagues Calcutta session, but his chair was empty throughout the meeting I
as he remained interned under house arrest with his brother Shaukat AM
(1873-1938). Since 1915 the Ali brothers had been under arrest by the govl
ernment under its martial emergency powers. The newspapers they edited.
Comrade and Hamdard, had argued favorably on behalf of Caliph Abdul
Hamid of the Ottoman Empire, but British officialdom retained sphinxliknj
silence for over two years concerning the precise reasons for arresting these
two alims, till Jinnah pressed the question in the Central Legislative Counoijl
in 1917 and was told that “they were interned because they expressed and
promoted sympathy with the King’s enemies.” 22 The Ali brothers became id
rallying cry, not just for Muslims but for Hindus as well, and were single™
out by Mahatma Gandhi as his first great national cause in opposition to tlld

British raj. .. I

While Gandhi courted popular Muslim support by allying himsell niort
outspokenly with the struggle on behalf of the Ali brothers, he sought simuH
taneously, and won, official confidence by urging all Indians to enlist in lint
British army. Both positions appeared paradoxical to disciples who had
never considered the Mahatma enamoured either of Muslims or of war, yfl
in late 1917 and throughout 1918 those causes proved to he Gandhi's moll
important springboards to political power.

jinnah ul this juncture was most vocal in Ids criticism of Britains Intel!

lit ’(KNOW TO BOMBAY (1916-18)

'•Hied recruiting drive in India, insisting first of all that Indians “should be
I*nl on the same footing as the European British subjects” before being
•I'dti'd to fight. Specifically, he demanded that royal commissions be made
.Lblc to the people of India.” Chelmsford angrily rebuked that position

• i'i bargaining, to which Jinnah irately replied, "Is it bargaining, consis-
'""llv w ’tb my self-respect as King’s equal subject in my own country, to
I' d my Government face to face that this bar must be removed? Is it bar-
K'd'iliig. My Lord, to say that in my own country I should be put on the

•mi.’ looting as the European British subjects? Is that bargaining?” 23 As
in rli t led member of the council, Jinnah was, of course, invited to the war

• niifcrence the Viceroy planned to hold that April in Delhi, but first he had

. . more important engagement to attend in Bombay.

linmdi married Ruttie on Friday, April 19, 1918, at his house, South
( "ml. on Mount Pleasant Road atop Malabar Hill in Bombay. She had
m niv mi I oil lo Islam three days earlier, though she remained a nonsectarian
die "II bur hfe. None of Ruttie’s relatives attended her wedding. She had
•li tI limn her fathers palatial prison less than a mile away on the day she
I hi in 1 1 eighteen and was mourned as if dead by Sir Dinshaw until she and
l' MM "b •"■pnruted less than a decade after they had married. The raja of
MmIimmh litbad and just a few other intimate Muslim friends of Jinnah at-
*' "'I' 'I ’I"' '|"mi wedding. “The ring which Jinnah gave to his wife on the
fti • Ming ilny was my father’s gift,” Mahmudabad’s son and heir recalled.

1 In IdnmliN spent their honeymoon at Nainital in our house.” 24 It was not
i"" 1 I '"i jfu'ling, yet perched over a mile above sea level, Naini was the
11 hill slnlion that the Nehrus as well as Mahmudabads liked best, and
lltniiih mid Mutlie rode their horses over miles of lovely trails through rich
1 "I |Min , relishing the freedom, the perfect liberation and joy of being
1 *'• i nlmie in an environment whose natural beauty seemed barely to

• • II' • I lln* bliss they found in one another.

' l1, ' limn a week of honeymooning in the hills, the young couple
"■ '' ,I "' VM I" ILlhi, where they stayed in Maidens, a magnificent hotel

i" 1 ""I '•!' llic old city gate beyond the Red Fort, an ideal hideaway re-
!'*''' " "b Mug,bill gardens, fountains and pools, a regal staircase, a crystal
' *' <i"l' h« i mill a palatial dining ball. The perfect mixture of imperial ele-

. . 1 billlsli privacy, Maidens was to remain Jinnah’s favorite hotel

'• •! mi I >. Iln | hey were a stunning couple. Ruttie’s long hair was decked
4l ''' l" h II"W"in. her lovely lithe body draped in diaphanous silks of
11 " 'I 'Mil gold, pule blue, or pink. She wore headbands replete with

ilttiMiniiil'. iiilil.’v iii id emeralds, and smoked English cigarettes in long
b’" ""I slbi i llllns that added a flamboyance lo her every graceful ges-

lu*i beiul, mid twirl ol arm or body, even us the musical ring of her

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

uninhibited laughter reminded the world of her beautiful presence. Jinnah,
with his bristling black moustache and brilliantly luminous eyes, dressed as
smartly as any British lord inside Buckingham, seemed the perfect consort
for his bride, and they looked in that spring of 1918 as happy and fulfilled
as they felt. With a start that perfectly beautiful, surely they had reason to
expect that the future might be one long life of continuing happiness, if not
eternal bliss.

The Delhi war conference was the first battleground on which Jinnah
confronted the man who was to become his foremost contender for national
prominence and political power. With his honeymoon not yet over, Jinnah
could hardly be blamed perhaps for underestimating just how potent a force
was arrayed against him that April, seated half-naked across the viceroys
conference table. “In response to the invitation I went to Delhi,” Gandhi
recalled, gratuitously protesting, “It was not in my nature to placate anyone
by adulation, or at the cost of self-respect.” 25 Recounting this event almost
a decade later, as the Mahatma whose Experiments With Truth would in¬
spire millions of young Indians and students the world over to emulate his
virtues, Gandhi could not, of course, ignore what he had done, nor could
he erase it from his conscience. Yet, how was he to explain himself? “I had
fully intended to submit the Muslim case to the Viceroy,” he insisted, argu¬
ing his “principled objections” to participating in a conference that perforce
excluded the Ali brothers. Thus, after reaching Delhi, he wrote to Lord
Chelmsford “explaining my hesitation to take part in the conference. He
invited me to discuss the question with him. I had a prolonged discussion
with him and his Private Secretary Mr. Maffey. As a result I agreed to take
part in the conference.” 26 Gandhi’s “part,” however, was to be confined to
seconding the key resolution on recruiting Indians for the army, and “As
regards the Muslim demands I was to address a letter to the Viceroy.” Hav¬
ing capitulated to Chelmsford, however, the Mahatma was so conscience-
stricken at what he had agreed to that he resolved to do it as briefly, as
palatably as possible. His second would be one short sentence, “With a full
sense of my responsibility I beg to support the resolution.” He delivered
that sentence, moreover, first in Hindi and then translated it himself into
English. Then in his Autobiography he focused on the initial language he
had used, not on the words spoken, or the meaningful support they
rendered to martial violence and the British war machine.

Many congratulated me on my having spoken in Hindustani. That
was, they said, the first instance within living memory of anyone
having spoken in Hindustani at such a meeting. The congratulations
and the discovery that I was the first to speak in I lindustuni at a Vice¬
regal mooting hurt my national pride. I loll like shrinking Into myself.

LUCKNOW TO BOMBAY (1916-18)

What a tragedy that the language of the country should be taboo in
meetings held in the country, for work relating to the country, and
that a speech there in Hindustani by a stray individual like myself
should be a matter for congratulation! Incidents like these are re¬
minders of the low state to which we have been reduced. 27
Unable to admit how wretched he felt at receiving the congratulations
ol so many imperialists for having abandoned nonviolence to curry favor
wllli a viceroy, Gandhi expressed his true feelings as “a stray individual”
" hose “national pride” was “hurt” but justified them to his own memory and
III® world purely on national-language grounds. There was, in fact, no
I a boo” on Hindustani, which seems hardly the reason Gandhi “felt like
shrinking' into himself! His commitment to recruiting for the war would,
however, indeed, drive him to severe mental breakdown before the end of
* 11 1'' but Gandhi’s loyalist role at the war conference proved devastating
I" Imnah’s anti-government stand and caught the entire nationalist leader-
hip 1 11 attendance at Delhi off balance.

|iimnh had tried to move a substitute nationalist resolution but was ruled

• ml ol order” by the viceroy. In a telegram he had sent Chelmsford, Jinnah
I m ili IIv insisted, “We cannot ask our young men to fight for principles, the
application of which is denied to their own country. A subject race cannot
He,hi lor others with the heart and energy with which a free race can fight
ha ihr freedom of itself and others. If India is to make great sacrifices in
i In ili'I cnee of the Empire, it must be as a partner in the Empire and not

'• 'li pendency. Let her feel that she is fighting for her own freedom as
' II i. lor the commonwealth of free nations under the British Crown and
" r 'lic will strain every nerve to stand by England to the last. . . . Let
I"II H sponsible government be established in India within a definite period
i" I*" fixed l>y statute with the Congress-League scheme as the first stage
""I 1 bill to that effect be introduced into Parliament at once.” 28 Had
' 'i"llil been willing to close ranks behind Jinnah’s leadership in Delhi in

• "I'i 11iniali would have mistrusted him less a year later. Together they

‘• I'* have persuaded the British to grant India freedom overnight, but

tin > i mild certainly have accelerated the transfer of power timetable. They
'"•('III "vu Imvc avoided partition.

• ihd mid Annie Bosunt marched shoulder to shoulder with Jinnah. Bom-
I' governor, Lord Willingdon, denounced the three of them in a letter
l""im','i l"i having "no feeling of what is their duty to the Empire at
ibh 11 1'll-i u " A lew months later. (Jholmsford would further poison his secre-
'•**' "I ’iiuii M mind about Jinnah and several other of his nationalist col-
h "i"" 1 In the legislative council, labeling them "irreconeilables” with whom
*1 I" no use thinking that we can do anything. , , . There Is a root of

gg JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

bitterness in them which cannot be eradicated, and for my part I am not
going to attempt the task.” 30

Governor Willingdon convened his own provincial war conference in
Bombay's town hall on June 10, 1918. Jinnah was there and must have felt
the blood rush to his face as Willingdon remarked: “There are a certain
number of gentlemen, some of whom have considerable influence with the
public, many of them members of the political organisation called the Home
Buie League whose activities have been such of late years, that I cannot
honestly feel sure of the sincerity of their support.” 31 Tilak tried to amend
Willingdon's proposed resolution, insisting there could be no Home De¬
fense” without Home rule, but he was ordered to leave the conference.
Jinnah then rose to speak and said he was

pained, very much pained, that His Excellency should have thought
fit to cast doubts on the sincerity and the loyalty of the Home (Buie)
Party. He was very sorry, but with the utmost respect he must enter
his emphatic protest against that. They were anxious as any one else
to help the defence of the motherland and the Empire. ■ • y e
ference was only regarding the methods, for, Government s methods
the Home Rule Party did not want. He was only making suggestions
for the improvement of the scheme. The Government had their own
scheme, namely, for the recruitment of sepoys, but that was not
enough to save them from the German menace. . . . They wanted a
national army or, in other words, a citizen army and not a purely
mercenaiy army. ... I say that if you wish to enable us to help
you, to facilitate and stimulate the recruiting, you must make the ed¬
ucated people feel that they are the citizens of the Empire and the
King’s equal subjects. But the Government do not do so. You sa Y tliat
we shall be trusted and made real partners in the Empire. Wheni 1 W e
don't want words. We don't want the consideration of the matter in¬
definitely put off. We want action and immediate deeds. 32

Jinnah’s public conflict with Willingdon was reflected in their acerbic
social relationship. The Jinnahs had been invited to dinner at Bombay's
Government House soon after returning from their honeymoon. Ruttie wore
one of her lowest-cut Paris evening gowns, and Lady Willingdon was quick
to order her servant to bring a “wrap to cover up Mrs. Jinnah ... in case
she felt cold." Jinnah did not wait for the servant's return, jumping up from
table to inform his hostess, 'When Mrs. Jinnah feels cold, she will say so
and ask for a wrap herself.” 33 He escorted his wife from the room. They did
not set foot inside the Government House again till the Willi ngdons had

moved out. .,

I,dsn than a week alter lli«' provincial war conference broke up, Jirman*

LUCKNOW TO BOMBAY ( 1916-18)

league celebrated Home Rule Day, on June 16, 1918, with a mass rally in
Bombay, at which Jinnah said:

Lord Willingdon has said that the support of the Home Rule Party is
half-hearted. My answer is this. . . . Your methods and policy are all
wrong. I cannot believe that even a bureaucrat is so blind as not to
see it . . . they do not trust us and, therefore, are not prepared to
allow us to take up arms for the defence of our own motherland and
of the Empire. They want us to continue an organisation, which they
call an army, which is a sepoy army and nothing else, and they then
turn round and tell us that we are not helping them. I say what Mr.
Montagu in his speech on the Mesopotamia Report has said . . . that
the Government of India is “too wooden, too iron, too antediluvian
to be of any use for the modern purpose we have in view.” 34

I .css than a month later, Gandhi wrote to urge Jinnah to “make an emphatic
declaration regarding recruitmentarguing:

Can you not see that if every Home Rule Leaguer became a potent
recruiting agency whilst at the same time fighting for constitutional
rights we should ensure the passing of the Congress-League scheme?

. . . “Seek ye first the recruiting office and everything will be added
unto you.” 35

II was one of Gandhi’s strangest letters and appears to have left Jinnah too
nI nicked to respond. Gandhi came to appreciate the wisdom of Jinnah’s
| ion i I ion on recruiting as soon as he started going from village to village in

* III jurat, to the beat of a soldier’s tin drum.

As soon as I set about my task, my eyes were opened. My optimism
received a rude shock. We had meetings wherever we went. People
did attend, but hardly one or two would offer themselves as recruits.
"You are a votary of Ahimsa, how can you ask us to take up arms?
Whul good has Government done for India to deserve our co-opera-
I Inn?” These and similar questions used to be put to us. 36

• b August, Gandhi wrote Maffey, quoting even tougher common peasant
■ I"• 'Hous, such as, “How can we who can hardly bear the sight of blood and
"hii have never handled arms suddenly summon up courage to join the
‘"HIM 1 u Mclore September was over, Gandhi’s health broke down, per-
"illllng him to abandon this most difficult, uncongenial work.

I scry nearly ruined my constitution during the recruiting campaign.

I I' ll tIml tins Illness was bound to be prolonged and possibly fatal.

Wliilsl I was thus tossing on the bed of pufn . . . Vallalihbhai
I I'alel I brought llii' news thill Germany had been completely do-

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

feated, and that the Commissioner had sent word that recruiting was
no longer necessary. The news that I had no longer to worry myself
about recruiting came as a very great relief. . . . Vallabhbhai came
up with Dr. Kanuga, who felt my pulse and said, “Your pulse is quite
good. I see absolutely no danger. This is a nervous breakdown due to
extreme weakness.” I passed the night without sleep. The morning
broke without death coming. But I could not get rid of the feeling
that the end was near. 38

Montagu’s report on Indian constitutional reforms was published in July
1918, recommending “partial control of the executive in the provinces by the
legislature, and the increasing influence of the legislature upon the executive
in the Government of India,” and “as far as possible, complete popular con¬
trol in local bodies.” 39 Jinnah studied this initial report and issued his
reactions to the press on July 23, 1918, noting that

The proposals are not like the laws of the Persians and the Medes, but
they may be modified upon further discussion. . . . Great effort has
been made to face the problem. I know that great difficulties were put
in the way of Mr. Montagu in India and he was called upon to deal
with one of the most intricate and complicated problems that any
country had ever to face . . . but, I think, he has been unduly influ¬
enced by the alarmist section, which has resulted in innumerable re- j
strictions being put on the concessions that have been made to the
people. . . . The advancement would be worthless unless in major
provinces like Bombay all the departments, except the Police and
Justice, are transferred. I am willing to accept this only as a transi¬
tional stage with a view to show that for the present the maintenance
of law and order may be reserved to the Government, since the argu¬
ment has been advanced that, after all, we are going through an ex¬
perimental stage. 40

Again, Jinnah proved himself eminently moderate and flexible, a brilliant
constitutional lawyer and negotiator. Had his efforts to deal directly with
Montagu not been sabotaged by the government of India and its Black
Rowlatt acts, the years of tragedy that were to ensue in the wake of the
war need not have derailed the process of responsible transfer of power set
so patiently in motion by Britain’s two greatest Liberal secretaries of state,
John Morley and Edwin Montagu.

Jinnah served on the joint Congress-League committee to coordinate
both responses to Montagu’s proposals, which emerged as a qualified ac¬
ceptance of the report combined with reaffirmation of the Lucknow Pact,
and urged rapid strides toward attainment of full responsible government.
Congress louden* differed widely in their assessments of the report. Surondm

LUCKNOW TO BOMBAY (1916-18)

Nath Banerjea was willing to support it, C. R. Das, anticipating “the fail¬
ure of Dyarchy,” wanted “real Responsible Government in 5 years,” while
Motilal Nehru was ready to wait “another two decades.” The regular annual
sessions of Congress and the Muslim League were scheduled to be held in
Delhi in December.

As World War I sputtered to its end that November, so did Willingdon’s
tenure over Bombay. The Jinnahs could hardly wait for that governor to
leave, and when they learned of plans by some of Willingdon’s Parsi friends
to host a public function at Town Hall honoring him on the eve of his
departure, they launched a mass opposition movement to that function. It
was Jinnah’s first and most vigorous public demonstration against a British
official. The Willingdon Memorial Committee timed their meeting to start
ill 5:00 p.m. on December 11. Some 300 of Jinnah’s youthful followers started
i limping out near the steps of Bombay’s town hall the night before. Police
I ept the broad steps themselves clear of crowds till 10:00 a.m. when the
I iii 11 opened, shortly before which Jinnah himself arrived to take a place
lived for him at the head of the queue. He raced up the steps as fast as
hi’* long legs could carry him and secured the very first rows, with his Home
mil’ comrades. About noon, Ruttie arrived with a tiffin basket filled with
I lu ll sandwiches, for they dared not leave those choice seats, knowing
Wllllngdon’s supporters would start to show up in the early afternoon. The
l'ii ge hall was filled, in fact, hours before the robed sheriff of Bombay called
Ili«' meeting to order. Sir Jemsetjee Jeejeebhoy, one of Bombay’s leading
I'hhiIs whose family fortune was made in the opium trade, “presided” over
ilinl 11 meting, but from the moment he rose to address the audience, Jinnah
"" I Ids claque were on their feet, shouting “No, no!” 41 Raucous protests

• mil limed for about twenty minutes, and though no one could hear him

mi, Sir Jemsetjee supposedly moved the “resolution of appreciation” for
l "ill Willingdon. The commissioner of police then ordered the hall to be
' !• iri’il, and Jinnah as well as Ruttie and their friends were hustled
l "" ffih outside. It was the first and only time Jinnah would be roughed up
""I Inill,sod by any one in uniform. He emerged from the town hall, how-

• ■ ■ i ii uniquely popular Bombay hero.

1 I'lillc’inen, you are the citizens of Bombay,” Jinnah told his adoring
""Ii* m i' that stretched across Apollo Street that evening. “Your triumph
1 1 I" 1 ', iunde it dear that even the combined forces of bureaucracy and

"in.' mi \ could not overawe you. December the 11th is a Red-Letter Day
in lln Ills lory ol Bombay, Gentlemen, go and rejoice over the day that has
' ’""'I UN 11 ii* triumph of democracy,” 42 Thai night a huge demonstration
" In Id In Slianljiniin's (flmwl, mid soon no fewer than 65,000 rupees wore
Mined iniielt ol il in tine rupee ooiitrlhiilloiiN, In build, "People's Jinnah

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

Memorial Hall” which still stands in the compound of Bombay’s Indian
National Congress Building, commemorating the “historic triumph” of the
citizens of Bombay “under the brave and brilliant leadership of Mohammad
Ali Jinnah.” 43 After Jinnah left Congress, and especially after the birth of
Pakistan, that hall appeared strangely anachronistic and is now anonymously
referred to only by its initials as P. J. Hall. Few Indians remember that
People’s Jinnah Hall was erected to honor the fearless leadership of Bom¬
bay’s most inspiring ambassador of Hindu-Muslim unity.

Amritsar to Nagpur

( 1919 - 21 )

Armistice brought not peace but the sword of harsh repression and bitter
disillusion to India. Martial law “Defence of India Acts” passed in 1915 had
mis ponded civil liberties and all legal due process throughout the war,
»i I lowing the government of India to arrest, detain, intern, or expel any
Indian without trial, warrant, or stated cause. The Allied victory was, natu-
iidlv, expected to restore all such rights and legal safeguards. Such was not
die case, however, for an ominous report written by the government’s sedi¬
tion committee, chaired by King’s Bench Justice Sir Sidney Rowlatt, had
|n ,l been published, recommending immediate extension of the Criminal
I iw (Emergency Powers) Act for at least six months. Such was the very
Hi ill bill introduced to the postwar Central Legislative Council. It soon came
I" I"’ known and hated throughout India as the “Black” or Rowlatt Act.

I bis was a wrong remedy for the disease, the revolutionary crimes,”

' lined the Hon. Mr. Jinnah, as Rowlatt’s Bill was tabled on February 6,
lulu

I" substitute the Executive for the Judicial will lead to the abuse of
iIicnc vast powers. . . . There was no precedent or parallel in the
b gid history of any civilized country to the enactment of such laws.

I'bis was the most inopportune moment for this legislation as
hl|di hopes about momentous reforms had been raised. ... If these
lin mini ires were passed they will create unprecedented discontent, agi-
biHuii and will have the most disastrous effect upon the relations
lii'iwi'Hi the (ioverament and the people. 1

Mil warnings Ml on deal ears. Chelmsford, Rowlatt, and the others wore
• leli’imilled lo steam lull abend despite the unanimous opposition of all.

02 TINNAH OF PAKISTAN

twenty-two Indian members on the council. There were thirty-four official
members willing to rubber stamp the Black Act that was passed into law
in March 1919.

“By passing this Bill,” Jinnah wrote Chelmsford a few days later from
his Malabar Hill house, to which he had returned as soon as the vote was
announced,

Your Excellency’s Government have actively negatived every argu¬
ment they advanced but a year ago when they appealed to India foi
help at the War Conference and have ruthlessly trampled upon the
principles for which Great Britain avowedly fought the war. The fun¬
damental principles of justice have been uprooted and the constitu¬
tional rights of the people have been violated at a time when there is
no real danger to the State, by an overfretful and incompetent bureau¬
cracy which is neither responsible to the people nor in touch with real
public opinion. ... I, therefore, as a protest against the passing of
the Bill and the manner in which it was passed tender my resignation
... for I feel that under the prevailing conditions I can be of no use
to my people in the Council nor consistently with one s self-respect is
co-operation possible with a Government that shows such utter dis¬
regard for the opinion of the representatives of the people in the
Council Chamber, and for the feelings and sentiments of the people ‘
outside. In my opinion, a Government that passes or sanctions such a
law in times of peace forfeits its claim to be called a civilised Gov¬
ernment and I still hope that the Secretary of State for India, Mr.
Montagu, will advise His Majesty to signify his disallowance to this
Black Act. 2

The resignation, further attesting to Jinnah’s courageous national leader¬
ship at this time, made no impact on Chelmsford, while Montagus own
influence in London continued to deteriorate. Jinnah had no way of know¬
ing on how impotent a secretary of state he pinned his hopes for India s
future, and he decided to sail for London to seek to persuade his faltering
friend to override the government of India. Ruttie was pregnant; and though
their love would never be as strong again and the aftermath of the war
proved so politically frustrating, the future never seemed as promising to
both of them as it did that winter at the start of 1919.

The Muslim League had appointed Jinnah to lead a deputation to Prime
Minister Lloyd George that year to plead for at least one Muslim delegate
to the forthcoming Paris Peace Conference. Most Indian Muslims felt, as
League President A. K. Fazlul Haq put it, that ''Muslim countries are now
the prey of the land-grabbing propensities of the Christian imlions. in spilt;
,.f the solemn pledges given by theta, very nations that the World War was

AMRITSAR TO NAGPUR ( 1919-21)

being fought for the protection of the rights of the small and defenceless
minorities.” 3 Sir Satyendra P. Sinha and the Maharaja of Bikaner (1880-
1943) had been appointed to represent India at the Imperial War Confer¬
ence in 1917, but since neither was Muslim, the League feared that Islamic
Interests were being shortchanged or ignored. With the Ali brothers and
other popular Khilafat leaders, including Delhi’s scholarly devout Maulana
Abu I Kalam Azad (1887-1958), still under detention without specified
charges, Muslims felt more intensely than ever a sense of communal alarm
mid second-class subjectship under British rule. Khilafatists feared that Brit-
i'.li wartime pledges and promises to protect Islam’s holy places would be
broken, now that Turkey was a defeated enemy power at the mercy of
( hristian victor states, determined to crush it for all time.

The Jinnahs reached London in May and rented a flat near Regent’s

I nk. Friends visited them there, including Bombay’s diwan Chaman Lai,
"Im recalled Jinnah’s “uninhibited laughter when telling a funny story
" I ill'll was often in the category of a parable.” 4 One evening in mid-August,

II mmil took Ruttie to the theater, but they were obliged to leave their box
hurriedly. Their only child, a daughter named Dina, was born in London
'liortly past midnight on August 14-15, 1919, oddly enough precisely twenty-
■ 1 1 ’lil years to the day and hour before the birth of Jinnah’s other offspring,
I'll hi an. Jinnah’s mission for the League proved less successful, however,
b'l though he presented the Muslim case vigorously to Lloyd George, the
I'ilme minister granted him no satisfaction. Montagu and Bikaner alone
" i" 1 .‘muled India at Versailles, where Britain and France formally assumed
ili'ii protectorate mandates over Iraq, Palestine, Transjordan, Syria, and
I ' l»ni m iii, curved out of the dismembered Ottoman Empire. Jinnah must
h'U " Imped for an invitation to attend the peace conference himself, espe-

I'tlb Inee lie had come so far and was the "delegate” of the Muslim
I i u(Mie, bill the distrust, hatred, and suspicion of him so recently expressed
I. i belmslord, Willingdon, and other leading experts on India sufficed to
1 ■ 1 p Hi IImIii’s cabinet cold to his overtures. More doors remained closed

• him "pen In him this time round. Bombay’s new governor, George Lloyd,

•b'l 1,1 • be.I In poison Montagu’s mind against Jinnah, writing of him that
I'"" u lulr of speech and black of heart,” a “real irreconcilable,” and “of
'll ,l " "I'll a lots . . . the only one who has consistently said one thing and
i" 1 '" ii ini',In 11 way and done the other.” 5 There were fewer smiles on those
1 , " i 1 "inIt>n luces lie met, as Whitehall closed ranks behind Simla, Delhi,
'ml Mi mmI un He bad, alter all, resigned his “honorable” position. Best not
In • it.. I but sort !

‘•him April, moreover, non-cooperation and violence had spread across

• ••• • i.» III r liniNhfl.ro in tile wake of untl-Howlatt Act muss protests and the

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

British massacre at Jallianwala Bagh. Gandhi chose April 6, 1919, as the
first “sacred” day of a nationwide business strike (hartal) to protest the
Black Acts, which he urged his Satyagraha followers to “refuse civilly to
obey.” It was a totally nonviolent day, but a week later, on April 13, 1919,
Amritsar (“Nectar of Immortality”), a city sacred to the Sikhs of the Punjab,
was transformed shortly before sundown into India s first national uiban
shrine. Two of Gandhis lieutenants had been arrested a few days earlier
and deported, thus stirring up a protest march toward the British commis¬
sioner s bungalow in the cantonment. Several soldiers panicked and opened
fire, killing a few marchers and turning the peaceful crowd into a raging
mob bent on retaliation. They burned British banks and attacked a few
Englishwomen as well as Englishmen in Amritsar’s old city. A British briga¬
dier and his force were called in to restore order. The general banned all
public meetings. On April 13, when he learned of a meeting of thousands
taking place inside Jallianwala Bagh (“Garden”), he drove to that almost
totally enclosed site with some of his troops, ordering them to open fiie
without uttering a word of warning to the peacefully assembled crowd
inside. It was a Sunday, a Hindu festival holiday. The crowd, mostly vil¬
lagers, had come to the city to celebrate. The soldiers fired 1,650 rounds of
live ammunition at point-blank range for ten minutes at the terror-stricken
human targets, who found no exits from that nightmare in the garden, leav¬
ing some 400 Indians dead and over 1,200 wounded. The general and his
troops beat a hasty retreat as the sun set on the bloodiest massacre in British
Indian history, which Chelmsford later termed an error of judgment.

“India has got to keep her head cool at this most critical moment, Jinnah
advised his readers in an interview the Bombay Chronicle published on his
return home in mid-November 1919, “Unless at the next session of the Con¬
gress in December a thoughtful programme is laid down by our leaders and
accepted by the people, an incalculable amount of harm would be done to
our cause.” 6 Jinnah still felt “confident that Mr. Montagu will not fail us"
but termed Chelmsford’s administration “a failure” and argued that the
sooner he is recalled the better for all concerned.” As to the prime ministers
“promises” on behalf of “poor Turkey,” he called those “a scrap of paper”
and did not believe the Allies stood ready to concede “self-determination
and independence” to Arab states. He was, however, more optimistic about
India, envisioning a true “renaissance” through education, commercial, in¬
dustrial, and technical progress and growth, and a nationalized military
policy. Asked if he had any “message to the people” as the Amritsar Con¬
gress was approaching, Jinnah replied: “The attitude of the Congress will
have to depend upon the Beforro Bill which I think will be passed bofoio
the middle of December." Jinnah had written Gandhi from London in June

AM HITS AR TO NAGPUR ( 1919-21)

iisking what he thought of Montagu’s bill then in Parliament, and Gandhi
replied:

I cannot say anything about the Reforms Bill. I have hardly studied
it. My preoccupation is Rowlatt legislation. . . . Our Reforms will be
practically worthless, if we cannot repeal Rowlatt legislation. . . .
And as I can imagine no form of resistance to the Government than
eivil disobedience, I propose, God willing, to resume it next week. I
have taken all precautions, that are humanly possible to take, against
I'eerudescence of violence. 7

11 • pilomized their different approaches to political process, Jinnah still
t'hlng upon moderate legislative change, Gandhi preoccupied with civil
disobedience. The vectors of their widely divergent paths led them ever
I nr I her apart.

II India were to send her real representatives, say half-a-dozen, who
"III curry on propaganda work there [in London] backed up by substantial
Hiiinit'iul help and public opinion,” Jinnah suggested in his Bombay Chron¬
ic 1 • Interview, “a great deal can be done. But it must be a continual and
I" iiiianently established institution carried on by men, not only who go
•I" 111 h>r a few months, but permanently, settled.” Was he hoping for such
i i Inlin e himself? He was now a father, after all, and had to plan for his
1 11 * i •. luture, as well as his young wife’s. India was less secure than
"'•""I, !»•%?; safe a land to raise a family in than it had been since the terrible
•>>n nl I857-58. The influenza epidemic alone had claimed more than six
Hliilliai lives since 1918, and with the frontier rumbling, the Punjab bleed¬
ing "'"I I he rest' of the land poised on the verge of Satyagraha, prospects
»"< lit. Immediate future seemed dismal. Nor had Ruttie’s father relented,
Hoillniilng In refuse to acknowledge them socially despite the birth of his
M t, i" | l'luii)',liler. So the lure of London remained, growing more romantic
I" •I'Mp'i on permanent realization became less plausible. Jinnah’s Bombay

i 1 " . .wtlnued to prosper, demanding and receiving more and more of

*•!■* 11 ."I attention, evenings as well as days and often seven days a

• 11 II"' luw was an exacting mistress, as Ruttie soon learned. What little
'• 1 i"'" was In It to him, politics consumed. “Mercurial, dashing, impul-
lh i' uni lovely, lonely young Ruttie found herself daily with more time
d""' I" ' mild possibly devise ways to spend.

il" long avvallnd Montagu reforms were passed into law as the Gov-
..I India Ani on December 23, 1919, the day of King-Emperor

in. ' inyill. proclamation granting amnesty to all political prisoners.

h ' lb Majesty,s "earnest desire at this time that so far as possible any
iM" "I hlfli'ineNN hetwerii my people arid those who ii.ro responsible for my

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

Government should be obliterated,” but the new act fell far short of that
mark. Had it come a year earlier perhaps it would have sufficed to satisfy
expectations roused by the war. Though it did provide some measure of
provincial responsibility to elected representatives of India by “transferring”
certain departments and their revenues to popular control, while “reserving”
other, more important matters, to official hands. This newly devised tech¬
nique of half-and-half rule, called dyarchy, was Britain’s formula for de¬
volving political power “by successive stages,” to India. The Central Legis¬
lative Council was greatly enlarged into a bicameral mini-parliament with
an elective majority lower house to be called the Legislative Assembly. The
expense of the secretary of state for India’s salary and those of his assistants
was taken off India’s budget and transferred to Parliament, as Congress and
the League demanded. A public service commission was to be established
in India, thanks to which simultaneous recruitment to the coveted civil ser¬
vices would begin in New Delhi as well as in London by 1923. Finally, the
act provided for further statutory inquiry “into the working of the system of
government, the growth of education, and the development of representa¬
tive institutions, in British India ... as to whether and to what extent it
is desirable to establish the principle of responsible government” after ten
years. Had these come before the Rowlatt Act and Amritsar such constitu¬
tional concessions would surely have sounded generous, and, have been
more warmly welcomed throughout India.

Both Congress and the Muslim League held annual meetings in Amritsar
in 1919. Hindu-Muslim unity was seen by the League to be “the secret of
success,” not just of the newly proposed reforms, but of all work done by
Indians at home and abroad; and thanks to the “Congress-League Compact
of 1916 the major political obstacle to such unity had been resolved. The
Ali brothers appeared before the Amritsar League to a standing ovation and
reverberating chorus of joy.” 9 Mohammad Ali assured his joyously tearful
audience that “there was no Government but the Government of God.”
Jinnah was elected to preside over the League for the following year.

Jinnah called a special meeting of the Muslim League that September in
Calcutta, where Congress met as well in emergency session to consider the
radical change of political posture caused not only by announced Allied
peace terms but also by harsh, callous British reactions to the Jallianwalrt
Bagh massacre and published reports of its atrocious aftermath throughout
the Punjab.

We have met here principally to consider the situation that has arisen
owing to the studied and persistent policy of the Govormnonl since
the signing of the Armistice. First eame the Itowlutt Bill accom¬
panied by the Punjab atrocities and then came the spoliation of the

AMRITSAR TO NAGPUR ( 1919-21)

Ottoman Empire and the Khilafat. The one attacks our liberty, the
other our faith. Now, every country has two principal and vital func¬
tions to perform—one to assert its voice in international policy, and
the other to maintain internally the highest ideals of justice and hu¬
manity. But one must have one’s own administration in one’s own
I lands to carry it on to one’s own satisfaction. As we stand in mat¬
ins international . . . notwithstanding the unanimous opinion of the
Musalmans, and in breach of the Prime Minister’s solemn pledges, un¬
chi valrous and outrageous terms have been imposed upon Turkey and
I ho Ottoman Empire has served for plunder and broken up by the
Allies under the guise of Mandates. This, thank God, has at last con¬
vinced us, one and all, that we can no longer abide our trust either in
the Government of India or in the Government of His Majesty the
King of England to represent India in matters international.

And now let us turn to the Punjab. That Star Chamber Legislation
named after the notorious Chairman of the Rowlatt Committee was
launched by the Government of Lord Chelmsford, and it resulted in

I hose celebrated crimes” which neither the words of men nor the
Imrs of women can wash away. “An error of judgment,” they call it.

II I hat is the last word, I agree with them—an error of judgment it is
mid they shall have to pay for it, if not to-day then tomorrow. One
thing there is which is indisputable, and that is that this Government
must go and give place to a completely responsible Government.
Meetings of the Congress and the Muslim League will not effect this.

U e shall have to think out some course more effective than passing
resolutions of disapproval to be forwarded to the Secretary of State
I"i India. And we shall surely find a way, even as France and Italy
did and the new-born Egypt has. We are not going to rest content
mil 1 1 we have attained the fullest political freedom in our own coun-
! ,v ' Mr. Gandhi has placed his programme of non-cooperation, sup-
|" a I rd by the authority of the Khilafat Conference, before the coun-

•' \ 11 Is now for you to consider whether or not you approve of its
I" 1 d| »!<•; and approving of its principle, whether or not you approve
"I Its details. The operations of this scheme will strike at the indi-
\ idi in I In each of you, and therefore it rests with you alone to measure
Mini .strength and to weigh the pros and the cons of the questions be-
!"U' smi arrive at a decision. But once you have decided to march, let
lli. ir lie no retreat under any circumstances. 10

Bull"' ‘'ill behind him on the platform, a vivid reminder of all that he

I."* ,l| y ilskod from so revolutionary n step. He would, of course, be

' I" 1 B'd Id give up his lucrative legal practice as long as &'att/agraha con-
lliinrd ll lie endorsed II, which he never did, lie musl have sensed now, ns
''ll 11 wit the unique role ol rhlng political power he had enjoyed at Luck

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

now was starting its rapid descent. Gandhi's star burned so bright that now
lesser luminaries could barely be seen in India's political firmament. Jmnah
tried, nonetheless, to recapture the position he had held little more than a

year ago, castigating British rule for its broken promises.

Jinnah noted how the majority of the royal commission appointed to in¬
vestigate the Punjab atrocities exonerated the hate-crazed general Dyer and
his minions as “one more flagrant and disgraceful instance that there can be
no justice when there is a conflict between an Englishman and an Indian.
The Government of India, with its keen sense of humour and characteristic
modesty,” he added trenchantly, "proceeds to forward a resolution m its
despatch to the Secretary of State commending its conduct, blind to the fact
that they were in the position of an accused passing judgment. Now let us
turn to the great error of judgment,’ the judicious finding of the Cabinet
which itself is no less an error. ... I must mention the Parliamentary de¬
bate. . . . Of course Mr. Montagu hadn’t the time to put India s case before

the House, being far too busy ofltering personal explanations. And then t e
blue and brainless blood of England, to their crowning glory, carried the
infamous resolution of Lord Finlay.” Viscount Finlay of Nairn had proposed
honoring the deranged brigadier, General R. E. Dyer, hailed by the lords as
"Hero of the Hour,” presented with a large purse and jewelled sword in¬
scribed "Saviour of the Punjab,” and was backed by eight British dukes, six
marquesses, thirty-one earls, ten viscounts, and seventy-four barons.

“These are the enormities crying aloud, and we have met to-day face to
face with a dangerous and most unprecedented situation. The solution is not
easy and the difficulties are great. But I cannot ask the people to submit to
wrong after wrong.” Jinnah was clearly torn, his heart and mind rent by the
grave problems he tried to face rationally, doggedly seeking to avoid the
abyss of civil war. “Yet I would still ask the Government not to drive the
people of India to desperation, or else there is no other course left open to
the people except to inaugurate the policy of non-cooperation, though not
necessarily the programme of Mr. Gandhi.

Jinnah thus moved as close as ever he dared to the far side of his per¬
sonal faith in British justice and the noblest principles of Western civiliza¬
tion. He could not take that final stride into the vale of total rejection, how¬
ever, as Gandhi and tens of millions who followed him would do, for that
would have been a repudiation of himself, of all he stood for and had be¬
come. Jinnah was no more of a maulana than a mahatma, and could no
sooner have relinquished his elegant legal chambers and clubs lor village or
prison life thun Clunclhl could have abandoned spinning to start a probulo
practice. The pattern* of bolli pcmoimlllles were by then sel loo firmly in

fund.ntall) different raoldi to he altmd will.. di..

AMRITSAR TO NAGPUR ( 1919-21)

became the perfect prototype of a style of leadership suited to different con-
H fluencies, attuned to different languages and goals, fashioned by different
worlds. Jinnah was the model of urban Westernized India at its cleanest and
•ilmrpest. Gandhi reflected India’s ocean of peasant wisdom and village life
wllli its infinite capacity to endure poverty and patiently suffer any hardship.

The Calcutta Congress gave Gandhi his first major victory, for though
Ills non-cooperation program was strongly opposed by Bengal’s leading poli¬
ticians, C. R, Das (1870-1925) and B. C. Pal (1858-1932) who joined forces
wllli Jinnah and Annie Besant against him, the Mahatma, with the Ali
I a ol hers and Motilal Nehru in his corner, emerged with a clear majority
inundate to lead the march against the government. Khilafat trainloads of

• h legates, hired by Bombay’s merchant prince Mian Mohamed Chotani, one
"I < • indhi’s leading supporters, had been shipped cross-country to pack the
< iingress pandal and vote for their hero’s resolution, transforming Congress
11illi u populist political party. It marked a revolutionary shift in Congress’s
I mm- ol' support to a lower-class mass, funded by wealthy Hindu Marwari and
Muslim merchant-industrialists. Lokamanya Tilak died the day Mahatma
' 11 HIIii launched his first nationwide Satyagraha, August 1, 1920. Tilak him-

' II infused to accept Gandhi’s lead and was too orthodox a Brahman to em-
luuei' I lie Khilafat cause. Annie Besant, who never trusted Gandhi, openly
■ It mi h 11 iced his movement as a “channel of hatred,” while Gokhale’s moderate
...Mir at the head of the Servants of India Society, V. S. Srinivasa Sastri

• I'mil 1.040), considered the Mahatma “fanciful.” Pherozeshah Mehta’s most
HiiiNurvalive disciple, Dinshaw E. Wacha (1844-1936), a leader of the
' /nll«null Liberal Federation, called Gandhi a “madman . . . mad & arro-
1111111." Montagu, who could not for the life of him understand Gandhi’s

iiuilv" politics, by now suspected that perhaps his Satyagraha as well as

• In Khlliifill movement were both part of a “Bolshevik conspiracy.” The
•' i' liny of state wrote Chelmsford the very day Gandhi won his Calcutta
* 1 l"i\ "The Bolsheviks, in their animosity to all settled government, are

m i "I- i lu< grievances of the Mohammedans, and what frightens me is the
" -ii In which Pan-Islamism ... is taking charge of the extremist move-

IMHIll

• i"iii (lulaitta, both Jinnah and Gandhi went by rail to Bombay, to at-
"• 1 " Home llule League (Swaraj Sabha) meeting there on October 3,
l*' 'ii Cmnllil chaired that meeting and proposed changing Annie Besant’s

. ..gunlzitlions constitution to bring its goals more fully into line with

In \ihiiit\rulxi campaign “To secure complete Swaraj for India according to

• In i .In , ol tin- Indian people.” Jinnah argued against the motion, insisting
ih.ii Mluliimcnl of self-government within llio British Commonwealth . . .
In • Mii*itll iitlonnl met hods" remained the Htibha's best goal, and the only one

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

Bombay Parsi lieutenants, the brothers Jamnadas and Kanj

rrj^^^7-HSs

r“sr.“p-iSr,i s. l nV »•“

the course Gandhi charted for India.

Tf bv "new life” you mean your methods and your programme, I am
"rail I cannot accept them! for I am fully convinced that it must lead
todfeaster But the actual new life that has opened up before the
country is that we are faced with a Government Oat pays no hee
the Grievances, feelings and sentiments of the people that o
countrymen a« divided; the Moderate Party is still
your methods have already caused split and division y

institution that you have approached uther o ^ ^ fbhc Me

^ “ d eV 7 "

3E=rS.^

of a precipice in order to be shattered.

Was that “shudder” of apprehension in 1920
ing to the death knell of his dream of national ieadership and Cl _ y_

he had no faith in Gandhi or his judgment to save India from g
tered ” Was this possibly his first premonition of partition? The only y

prominent NuklomUilt leaders l»< the o°uniiy.

AMRITSAR TO NAGPUR ( 1919-21)

sure my colleagues and myself shall continue to work.” While conceding his
own weakness, on the one hand, Jinnah thus reaffirmed his commitment to
the same goal, the same struggle for responsible government through Hindu-
Muslim unity, to which he had devoted himself since long before Lucknow.

11 is wounded pride was palpable, perhaps more in those concluding remarks
oven than in his pained confession, “I have no voice or power .”

Central India’s Nagpur hosted both regular sessions of the Muslim
I jeague and Congress after Christmas in 1920. That ancient parched strong¬
hold of Hindu religious sentiment, fueled by Nag-Vidarbha regional mili¬
tancy gave birth to a new Congress under Gandhi’s revolutionary leadership.
The Mahatma first moved his credo resolution at a meeting of the subjects
committee on December 28, proposing “the attainment of swaraj by the
people of India by all legitimate and peaceful means.” Jinnah immediately
objected that it was impractical and dangerous to dissolve “the British
connection” without greater preparation for independence, but Gandhi
argued:

I do not for one moment suggest that we want to end the British con¬
nection at all costs unconditionally. If the British connection is for the
advancement of India we do not want to destroy it. ... I know, be¬
fore we are done with this great battle on which we have embarked
. . . we have to go probably, possibly, through a sea of blood, but let
it not be said of us or any of us that we are guilty of shedding blood,
but let it be said by generations yet to be born that we suffered, that
we shed not somebody’s blood but our own; and so I have no hesita¬
tion in saying that I do not want to show much sympathy for those
who had their heads broken or who were said to be even in danger of
losing their lives. What does it matter? 16

Jinnah argued as best he could against the resolution in committee, but
was told- his caution betrayed “a want of courage” and was shouted as well

• • ■< voted down the next day. As that fateful year rushed to its end, the new
erred was placed by Gandhi before the more than 14,500 delegates, who
flunked to Nagpur and crowded the Congress tent, more than twice the num-
I" i at Amritsar a year earlier. The Mahatma’s resolution was greeted with

• I' 'll felling, prolonged cheers and applause. Lala Lajpat Rai seconded the
million amid further raucous acclamation. Jinnah alone rose and demanded

• *t lie heard in opposition, striding to the dais. “Mr. Jinnah with the usual
111 1li on his face mounted the platform with an ease suggestive of self-

• iiiillilrnee and the convic tion of the man, and opposed in an argumentative,
li" til mid clour stylo, the change of creed," 17 reported the Times of India.

lie was "howled clown with cries of ‘simine, shame' and ‘political im-
|MinIoi " im lie refmed to "Mr, Gandhi's resolution," but the irate audience

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

yelled “No. Mahatma Gandhi.” 19 He repeated “Mister,” then finally aban¬
doned any preface, seeking a way to inject some air of logical reasoning into
an atmosphere charged with passionate emotion. “At the moment the desti¬
nies of the country are in the hands of two men,” Jinnah argued, “and one
of them is Gandhi. Therefore, standing on this platform, knowing as T do
that he commands the majority in this assembly, I appeal to him to pause, to
cry halt before it is too late.” Jinnah’s appeal went unanswered by Gandhi,
however, as the boos, hisses, and catcalls of the audience finally drove the
author of the Lucknow Pact and ex-president of the Home Rule League and
the Bombay Conference from that Nagpur platform. As the Central Prov¬
inces’ Commissioner Frank Sly quite accurately reported of the Nagpur Con¬
gress to Chelmsford two days later, “Jinnah carried no influence.” 20 It was
the most bitterly humiliating experience of his public life. He left Central
India with Ruttie by the next train, the searing memory of his defeat at
Nagpur permanently emblazoned on his brain. Whatever hopes he had had
of National leadership were buried that day. Gandhi had scaled the heights
of political popularity; Jinnah plummeted over the precipice to a new low,
reviled by fellow-Muslim Khilafat leaders even more than by the Mahatma’s
devoutest Hindu disciples. Shaukat Ali hated him and made no secret of his
sentiments wherever he went.

Though he had presided over the Muslim League only three months
earlier, Jinnah did not even bother to attend its Nagpur session, rightly
gauging the futility of his opposition to the Gandhi-Khilafat express. He had
no more heart for raucous confrontations that bitter December, no stomach
left for the names he had been called. He had warned them openly of the
futility of their battle plan, told them honestly of the havoc he correctly an¬
ticipated would be unleashed by and against the suddenly politicized
masses. Yet every jury, Khilafat Conference, Swaraj Sabha, Congress, and
Muslim League had rejected his arguments as outmoded, cowardly, or in¬
valid. There was no court of appeals left for the moment, so Jinnah went
silently home—his “career” in politics a shambles, though hardly at an end.

Retreat to Bombay
( 1921 - 24 )

Jinnah’s withdrawal from the political stage in 1921 left him totally preoc-
1 'iipicd with the law. He poured all his energy and talent into his work then
mill lor the last half of his fifth decade devoted himself, day and night, to

I liul demanding mistress. His quiet chambers and the Bar became his protec-

II vi- walls from the noisy, muddy field of public life. Safely removed from
'll* 1 fray, he watched as violence and stupidity stirred up dark clouds of
|mlilic rage and official repression. The death of his nationalist career in pol-
m<-I coincided with changes in his relationship to Ruttie. Their lives were
l< '.n glamorous now, less exciting. Jinnah was no longer the rising political
lii'io. Cone forever were the days of his leading a charge up any town hall
'!• pi or addressing mass meetings on streets named for Greek gods. After
Nagpur he aged much faster. The rakish beau of forty-two was trans-
I m mod—overnight it seemed—into an elder statesman, a careful barrister of
l"i l\ live, who had precious little time for the whims or fancies of a young
" lie and infant daughter.

11 11 1 tie tried in many ways to recapture his interest and attention, using
"II lli»- natural gifts and allure she possessed. But she belonged to his Luck-
era, those days of heady promise and infinite possibility. That mirage
behind him, almost as remote and strangely romantic a dream as his

. .. sll W career. “In temperament they were poles apart,” Jinnah’s legal

1 i iml in this interlude recalled. “Jinnah used to pore over his briefs every
'l' 1 ' 1 remember her walking into Jinnah’s chambers while we were in

..1'lil ‘>1 H conference, dressed in a manner which would be called fast

• i mi by modern .standards, perch herself upon Jamah's table, dangling her
*• • l and waiting lor Jimiah to finish the conference so that they could leave
Itigi'lhei. Jinnah never nllerod a word of protest, and carried oil with his

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

work as if she were not there at all.” 1 She had not as yet turned to the “spirit
world” for company, still desperately seeking friendship among the living.
Spoiled child that she had been, once the center of her father’s universe,
having been cast out of that world doubled her demands on her husband’s
time. She was obliged to rely more on his human support and friendship
than most Indian women of her class, who usually retained the closest ties
with parents, siblings, cousins, and all distant members of the extended
family, especially after becoming a mother. Ruttie had no one. Sir Dinshaw
never spoke to her again, even refusing to attend her funeral just over a
decade after her marriage. “No husband could have treated his wife more
generously,” Justice Chagla noted, summing up Jinnah’s relationship with
Ruttie, yet he could “well imagine how the patience of a man of Jinnah’s
temper must have been taxed” by so demanding, so lonely, a wife. 2

Jinnah’s first public address after Nagpur was on February 19,1921, at the
Poona Servants of India Society, which Gokhale had founded. Each year, a
distinguished disciple of Gokhale’s was invited to speak on the anniversary
of his death. Jinnah launched into an analysis of the then paralyzing con¬
frontation between “a Government which had persistently and deliberately
followed a policy that had wounded the self-respect of the country,” and
Gandhi’s non-cooperation movement, which “was taking them to a wrong
channel.” 3 Two and a half months of abstinence from politics had been with¬
drawal enough for him. He could not bring himself to follow “Mr. Gandhi’s
programme,” calling it “an essentially spiritual movement,” based on “de¬
structive” methods “opposed to the nature of an ordinary mortal like the
speaker himself.” Jinnah made clear his own readiness to return to the public
stage, but only to lead “a real political movement based on real political
principles.” His critique of Gandhi, though scathing, was not totally nega¬
tive, concluding that “Undoubtedly Mr. Gandhi was a great man and he
[Jinnah] had more regard for him than anybody else. But he did not believe
in his programme and he could not support it.” Jinnah ventured to “guess”
that were Gokhale still alive, he too “would not have endorsed this pro¬
gramme.”

The Satyagraha boycott proved less effective than Gandhi envisioned.
British courts remained busy as ever, though some Indian lawyers aban¬
doned their practices. Schools and colleges continued to function. Most
trains ran on time. Jails were filled, police did not stop working, and the
army remained entirely loyal to the British raj that paid it. There were signs
of seismic cracking in the wall of Hindu-Khilafat unity that started to
crumble with the mass flight of Muslims to Afghani,stun in the summer of
1920, and kept toppling deadly eoinmimul nibble on the heads of Muslims
who fought Hindu neighbors in llie south as well as the north during the

RETREAT TO BOMBAY ( 1921-24)

rest of the decade. “God only knows how often I have erred,” admitted
andhi by mid-August 1921. “Those who charge me with infallibility simply

do not know me . . . Life consists in struggling against errors .” 4

Chelmsford’s successor, Rufus Daniel Isaacs (1860-1935), the first
Marquess of Reading, arrived in India on April 2, 1921. Ex-lord chief justice
o ntam Viceroy Reading had much more in common with fellow barris-
f iooT ™' J. lnnah t:han had cavalr y captain Chelmsford. Before the end
ot 1921, Reading enlisted Jinnah’s assistance in seeking to reopen lines of
communication with political India.

Jinnah attended the Ahmedabad Congress that December and worked
with Bombay’s liberal M. R. Jayakar (1873-1959) and several other mod¬
erate leaders, trying to convince Gandhi to call a halt to Satyagraha in
order to allow all of them to explore the new viceroy’s promise of "full pro¬
vincial autonomy” and of a Round Table conference to discuss possible ex¬
tension of dyarchy to the center. Gandhi pondered that remarkable viceregal
offer silent in deep thought” for a while,* as Jinnah and Jayakar waited,
finally, the Mahatma agreed to give Reading a chance to prove himself,
hut within the hour, pressed hard by the misgivings of his more militant
lieutenants, Gandhi changed his mind. Had he adhered to his initial re¬
sponse, the transfer of power from Imperial British to national Indian con-
, might have been advanced a full decade and a half, Gandhi feared
however, that Reading was trying to “emasculate” him. “I am sorry that I
suspect Lord Reading of complicity in the plot to unman India for eternity,”
wrote the Mahatma in his “private notes” at this time. 0 Was the fifty-year-old
Mahatma possibly losing confidence in his own "manhood” at this critical
hour of severe tribulation?

I’ho Muslim League also met in Ahmedabad that December, with Mau-
1 , rat Moham > Jinnah’s bete noire presiding. It was a low point in the
I ""goes history, for most Muslims either expended their political energies
"" 1,1 Mlllafat movement, or, like Jinnah and the raja of Mahmudabad,
"Immlnuod the League in disgust at its uninspiring postwar leadership. “The
I 'l os..,It condition of the League appears to be very weak indeed,” admitted
o mni, confessing “the League remains nothing more than an old cal-
' iMlnr. 7

llmmh convened an All-Parties Conference in Bombay for mid-January
U ''' llo f )in 8 to cliait an alternative course to that set by Gandhi’s insis-
h 1,1111 '"toiuiflcd Satyagraha, including non-payment of taxes, was the

. . Some 300 political leaders from all of India’s

l mrM 7 ul,B1 " ied rt,ut conference, including Gandhi, win, participated

. .. V' elmining ns In. told ihc press to do so only "To see if |„. could

..* , ' n " ,,<l l >'« Moderate frland.,- The ■•U.adeiV ( kmlcrance" was chaired

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

by Madras’ Sir Sankaran Nair (1857-1934), former Congress president, now
law member of the viceroy’s council, who called upon Jinnah to propose the
draft resolutions. Those began with a strong condemnation of the govern¬
ment’s repressive policy, and an equally strong urging o Congiess
abandon non-cooperation. A compromise resolution ultimately agreed upon
called for a Round Table conference to settle outstanding differences be¬
tween the government and the Congress and Khilafat movements. Gand 1
addressed the conference, insisting that before any Round Table meeting
could be held government would have to issue “a proper declaration of peni¬
tence” and “retrace their steps.” , ,

The Mahatma met with a subjects committee of twenty leaders to help
draft the final resolutions, changing Jinnah’s proposals enough to drive con¬
servative Sir Sankaran Nair from his chair the next day when the new reso¬
lutions were submitted. Sir M. Vishveshvaraya, ex-diwan (prime minister)
of Mysore State, then took the chair. The resolutions all passed unanimously
but Gandhi had not yet abandoned his call for accelerating the pace of cm
disobedience and considered “die idea” of a Round Table conference for
devising a scheme of full swaraj premature. India has not yet incontestably
proved her strength,” Gandhi argued.” Two weeks later, however, the fatal
immolation of twenty-two Indian policemen inside their station m a Unite
Provinces town named Cliauri Chaura by a mob of Satyagrahs convinced
Gandhi that his countrymen were not ready for a nonviolent movement.
Early in February of 1922, the Mahatma called a halt to the campaign he
had launched with such confidence. “God has been abundantly kind to me,
he wrote at this time.

He has warned me the third time that there is not as yet in India that
truthful and non-violent atmosphere which and which alone can
justify mass disobedience which can be at all described as civil, which
means gentle, truthful, humble, knowing, wilful yet loving, never
criminal and hateful_God spoke clearly through Chaun Chaura.

Soon after this about-face by the Mahatma, Jinnah and Jayakar met with
him the latter noting that Jinnah’s “strong dislike of Gandhi grew more
“manifest” at each of their meetings.”' Immediately following news or the
violence at Chauri Chaura, “Jinnah and (Sir Hormusji) Wadias treatment
of Gandhi was most discourteous.”'” Little more than a year since Nagpur,
then it was Gandhi’s turn to swallow the bitter potion of humiliation. Thera
was no sweetness, no satisfaction for Jinnah, however, in the defeat of bis
foremost rival. The collapse of S atgjjgraha which he had anticipated, the
violence and res,,,-reeled 11 Indu-Musllni unlipalhy, brought him no joy, lor
.. was led ,,1 I .„i'km,w ..ml the lm.ro! ww.Ui 1<! ‘" ImsW P

RETREAT TO BOMBAY ( 1921-24)

snatched from his brow before it could settle there, were ashes. Like those
wretched, dismembered corpses at Chauri Chaura, his countless hours of
patient Bombay negotiation and careful Calcutta formulation of parliamen¬
tary schemes confirmed at Lucknow had gone up in the smoke of Nagpur’s
display of wild enthusiasm. For what? Now it was even too late to bring
Heading round again to where he had been just a few months before. Why
should any viceroy in his right mind negotiate a new constitution after may¬
hem and abject surrender? Jinnah’s “discourtesy” to Gandhi was hardly
surprising.

By mid-1922 Jinnah was trying to organize a new moderate party from
which he would have excluded Gandhi entirely, speaking out more “strongly”
against the Mahatma. 13 He invited Jayakar and Motilal Nehru to join forces
With him in this ambitious venture, but both “declined,” thus leaving Jinnah
Isolated from his former Congress Hindu colleagues. The old “Ambassador’s”
bridge of communal unity broke down. Jinnah’s political isolation and frus-
I i'll lion at this time were compounded by his alienation from Muslim Khilafat
leadership as well. The Ali brothers and Maulana Azad considered him a
■i| inkesman for the government and virtual “traitor” to their cause. His only
political friend was Muslim League fellow barrister and Sindhi, Ghulam
Mohammed Bhurgri (1881-1924), who continued to visit him in Bombay,
" here they often talked politics atop Malabar Hill well into the night. Jin-
null’s former Home rule secretary, Parsi Jamnadas Dwarkadas, and his
m mnger brother Kanji were often there too. Kanji, who became Ruttie’s
• losest friend, wrote:

< )ne night in May (1922) I had a dream in which I saw Ruttie lying
on a peculiarly shaped old fashioned sofa . . . and in that dream
Huttie said: “Kanji, help me.” Next morning as I woke up I remem¬
bered the dream, but ... I took no notice of it. The next night the
Niime dream appeared . . . including Ruttie’s call for help. . . . On
I lie 3rd afternoon at about 5, returning from office and without re¬
membering the dream I called at Jinnah’s “South Court” ... I had
not seen Ruttie for some weeks and this was the first time that I went
lu Jlimail’s house without a previous appointment. As I got out of the
• hi, Jinnah’s servant met me and told me that Ruttie was ill. I gave
him my card. ... In a minute he came back and said that Ruttie
winited to see me and I was taken to the back varandah [sic] where
' In 1 was lying. Imagine my surprise when I saw her lying on the sofa.

We kept on talking and jinnah returned home from his Chamber
a! about 7.30, asked me In have a drink with him and to stay on for
illnuer. I said I was lbore since 5 o'clock and I did not stay for

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

That September, Ruttie left Bombay with her daughter, pets, and nurse
for London. Kanji sent her a bouquet of “beautiful roses’ from Poona s Em¬
press Gardens as a bon voyage gift, and Ruttie wrote to thank him from
her P. & O. cabin before reaching Aden, on September 25, 1922: “It will
always give me pleasure to hear from you, so if you ever have a superfluous
moment on your hands you know how now—” and she gave her London
address, adding somewhat cryptically it “will find me if I don t lose myself—
And just one thing more—go and see Jinnah and tell me how he is—he has a
habit of habitually over-working himself, and now that I am not there to
bother and tease him he will be worse than ever.” 15 Her perception of his
“habit of habitually over-working himself,” while couched in a wifes lan¬
guage of concern, revealed their growing isolation from one another. As did
her coy reference to her own demands upon his time as “to bother and tease
him.” A streak of gray emerged now from the middle of Jinnah s forehead,
visual proof of how fast he was aging. He no longer sported his handsome
Lucknow mustache, and pictures from this era never show him smiling. His
dress remained meticulous, and it was always pinstripes in hues of gray,
black, or navy blue.

In September 1923, Jinnah issued an appeal to Muslim voters of Bombay.
“The duty of the Muslim voters of this city who will take part in the election
to the Legislative Assembly is ... to give their entire support to Mr. M. A.
Jinnah,” editorialized the Bombay Chronicle, whose board Jinnah chaired.
Congress split into opposing council-entry Swarajist party factions led by
Motilal Nehru and C. R. Das, and “no-changer” non-cooperators loyal to
Gandhi. The Swarajists selected their own candidates for the general Bom¬
bay seats. Jinnah ran as an independent Muslim candidate, and his populaiity
and prestige within Bombay were such that he stood unopposed and on
November 14, 1923, was easily returned to the seat he had resigned after
passage of the Rowlatt acts.

Ruttie tried to see more of him after she returned from abroad, but
nothing she attempted ever seemed to work. During that election campaign,
for example, one afternoon as Jinnah and Chagla were going out for lunch,

Mrs. Jinnah drove up to the Town Hall in Jinnah s luxurious limou¬
sine, stepped out with a tiffin basket, and coming up the steps . . .
staid . . . “J”!—that is how she called him—“guess what I have
brought for you for lunch.” Jinnah answered: “How should I knowP ^
and she replied: “I have brought you some lovely ham sandwiches.
Jinnah, startled exclaimed: “My God I What have you done? Do you
want me to lose my election? Do you realise I am standing from a
Muslim separate electorate seal, and if my voters were to learn that I
am going In oat Imm N.imlwIehrN for lunch, do you think I have a

RETREAT TO BOMBAY ( 1921-24)

ghost of a chance of being elected?” At this, Mrs. Jinnah’s face fell.
She quickly took back the tiffin basket, ran down the steps, and drove
away. . . . We decided to go to Cornaglia’s, which was a very well-
known restaurant in Bombay. . . . Jinnah ordered two cups of coffee,
a plate of pastry and a plate of pork sausages. ... As we were drink¬
ing our coffee and enjoying our sausages, in came an old, bearded
Muslim with a young boy of about ten years of age, probably his
grandson. They came and sat down near Jinnah. It was obvious that
they had been directed from the Town Hall. ... I then saw the boy’s
hand reaching out slowly but irresistibly towards the plate of pork
sausages. After some hesitation, he picked up one, put it in his mouth,
munched it and seemed to enjoy it tremendously. I watched this un¬
easily. . . . After some time they left and Jinnah turned to me, and
said angrily: “Chagla, you should be ashamed of yourself.” I said:
"What did I do?” Jinnah asked: “How dare you allow the young boy
cat pork sausages?” I said: “Look, Jinnah, I had to use all my mental
I acuities at top speed to come to a quick decision. The question was:
should I let Jinnah lose his election or should I let the boy go to eter¬
nal damnation? And I decided in your favour.” 16

Jinnah never permitted religious taboos to alter his tastes in food or

• h Ink, but from this point in time he was more sensitive to the concerns and
l<"'lmgs of orthodox Muslims. Not that he abandoned his commitment to

' rulin' reform and national independence, or refused to cooperate with
11 Indus, Parsis, and all other Indians. As late as 1925, in fact, he reproached
iln voting raja of Mahmudabad, who had by then come to think of himself
" "Muslim first,” with a stern, “My boy, no, you are an Indian first and
11 "'it a Muslim.” 17 But now he would never forget or underestimate the po-
hin "I importance of his Islamic identity. Many doors had been slammed in
luce since Nagpur, some on his toes. The public humiliation and per-
"iiul rejection he had felt drove him back deeper into himself, and to the

• miming community that still valued his advice. That helped him grow
•Irnng iignin, but in a different way. A new phase of his political life had
begun, n more cautious ascent, by another route. He had climbed very high,
l"ii loo s\\tfIlly, Were it not for the rope of his separate electorate constitu-
1 •" \ lime might have been no return. This time he would cut each toehold

III* fin ii cure, cleaving to the rock that sustained him.

New Delhi
( 1924 - 28 )

British India’s newly elected National Assembly met for the first time in
New Delhi on January 31, 1924. Jinnah wasted no time, inviting all twenty-
three “independents” to confer with him immediately after the viceroy’s
opening address. Ingenious negotiator, practical politician that he was, he
managed to define a program of basic reforms that he convinced all his
prima donna colleagues to join forces and work toward achieving. He was
then in position to go to Motilal Nehru and C. R. Das, offering to merge his
powerful swing-bloc of “independent” votes with their plurality of forty-two
Swarajist party members, who could rout the phalanx of thirty-six official
appointees whenever they wished. A new Nationalist party was thus boin
within the assembly overnight, much to Reading’s amazement and dismay.
This powerful Indian bloc of elected representatives committed to achieving
dominion status and fully responsible provincial government at the earliest
possible date, had been conjured into existence, miraculously it seemed,
from the disparate dross of individuals who posed no threat, no political
challenge to officialdom till touched by the welding fire of Jinnah’s brilliant
alchemy. So he repeated in New Delhi much the same feat of political unifi¬
cation he had achieved at Lucknow. Only the magic formula did not extend
as far this time, nor last quite as long.

Jinnah’s assembly strategy bore fruit in February 1924, when a resolution
on constitutional reforms recommended the “early’ summoning of a Round
Table conference “with due regard to the protection of the rights and inter¬
ests of important minorities” to “take steps to have the Government of India
Act revised with a view to establish full responsible Government in India.’ 1
That resolution carried hy a vole of 7(1 to 48, and as a result, Lord Reading
appointed a Reform* Inquiry Committee, chaired hy Ilona* member Sir

NEW DELHI (1924-28) 81

Alexander Muddiman. Jinnah served on that committee with four other
Indians: Madras’ Sir P. S. Sivaswamy Aiyer (1864-1946), president of the
National Liberal Federation; Poona educator Dr. R. P. Paranjpye (1877-
1969); Allahabad’s barrister Sir Tej Bahadur Sapru (1875-1949); and the
Punjab’s Sir Muhammad Shafi, law member of the government of India. The
committee soon came to be referred to among the elected members within
the assembly as “the Jinnah Committee.” 2 Jinnah drafted a “national de¬
mand minority report by the year’s end, but official fears of the growing
effectiveness and escalating demands of the united elected majority were
by then so strong that the viceroy vetoed several attempts to debate the Re¬
forms Inquiry Committee reports, thus squelching Jinnah’s recommendations.

The Pakistan movement and its singular impact on recent Indian history
have tended to obscure Jinnah’s positive contributions to the evolution of
parliamentary government in India. Much of his time and talent, however,
were lavished on fashioning legislation, arguing for or against budget items,
and trying to keep officials as well as nationalist colleagues intellectually
honest. Just as Gokhale had been for the Central Legislative Council of
Calcutta, Jinnah emerged in this interlude as the gadfly of Delhi’s assembly,
speaking to most resolutions, perusing every document and report with the
precision of a lawyer, and expressing himself without fear or hope of favor.
Speaking, for example, to a resolution designed to empower the assembly
to review government contracts, strongly opposed by officialdom, Jinnah
argued: “What is the difficulty? It is only an excuse, it is the same old story;
(he Executive does not wish to stand the searchlight of this House in enter¬
ing into engagements of a serious character—I say there is absolutely no
justification.” 3 And to a bill proposed to require passports for entry into
Ih'Jlish India, Jinnah remarked: “Sir, I think that all regulations which im-
I'u.sc passports are the biggest nuisance and the sooner they are done away
with the better.” 4

In February of 1924 he introduced an important resolution that went to
ll"' heart of India’s struggle for economic independence, insisting that the
government of India be allowed to purchase its vast and valuable “stores”
linemgh “rupee tenders” submitted in India, rather than only through ster-
lini*, bids made in London. “Although this Resolution of mine may not inter-
' 1 ' ' i y Member of the House, it being a very dry subject,” Jinnah began

"i\lv, 'I have no doubt that when Honourable Members understand this
'I 11 ' ’•Hull . . . they will realise that it affects India most vitally.” 5 He then
" > lowed the history of some seventy-five years of imperial purchases that
Inhibited 1 1 k linn economic development, concluding “it gives a tremendous
iiilvmiliige to the British mnimlueliims who are on the spot, who get the
tnli ii unit (on first, and Invariably It is really for all practical purposes con-

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

fined to the tenders coming from the British firms in England.” Moreover,
Jmnah argued that during the war “necessity” dictated the purchase of many
stores in India. Jinnah's resolution carried and probably did more to stimu¬
late Indian economic development prior to independence than any other
measure passed by the assembly.

Jinnah remained a great civil libertarian, always outspoken in defense of
individual rights and equal justice. “Sir,” he insisted, on behalf of readmit¬
ting the deported editor of the Bombay Chronicle, B. G. Horniman,

I do maintain, and I have drunk deep at the fountain of constitutional
law, that the liberty of man is the dearest thing in the law of any con¬
stitution and it should not be taken away in this fashion. If you have
any case, if Mr. Horniman has committed an offence, place him be¬
fore a tribunal. ... I speak very feelingly, because I feel that no
man should be deported and certainly not on such fabricated allega¬
tions as these, which, to my knowledge, are absolutely false. 8

That September in Simla, Jinnah reiterated his firm belief in “this principle
that no man’s property or liberty should be touched without a judicial trial." 7
In debating another bill the same day, Jinnah objected to the Home minis-
tei s motion, remarking: “I am not standing here merely as a person who
distrusts Government, but I am standing here as a representative of the
people and the Government have got to do what is best for the people and
not as it pleases their whims.” 8

That May, Jinnah presided over a special session of the Muslim League
in Lahore. ••Since the commencement of 1923, it was realized and admitted
that the triple boycott was a failure, and that the mass Civil Disobedience
could not be undertaken successfully in the near future," Jinnah argued. His
return to active political life had diminished his recent pessimism:

Boycott of Councils, as desired by Mahatma Gandhi, was far from
being effective or useful . . . the Khilafat organization, which was
carried on, could not claim any better position. . . . The result of the
struggle of the last three years has this to our credit that there is an
open movement for the achievement of Swaraj for India. There is a
fearless and persistent demand that steps must be taken for the im¬
mediate establishment of Dominion Responsible Government in
India. 9

And returning to the theme he stressed since first joining the League in
1913, Jinnah cautioned India never to forget “that one essential requisite
condition to achieve Swaraj is political unity between the Hindus and the
Mohammedans; ... I am almost inclined to say that India will get Domin¬
ion Responsible Government the day the Hindus mid Mohammedans are

NEW DELHI (1924-28)

“ alm0St ^changeable term with Hindu-Muslim

The Muslim League resolved at this important meeting to work for
Smam,, defined as a federal union of provinces “fully autonomous,” except
foi a minimal number of central government functions “of general and com-
mon concern. “Full religions liberty” was to be “guaranteed to all comZ-
ioint 1 r d f parate O le0t0rates ” were t0 rema “ for Indian Muslims, since
"wholt i d 7 re 7 ed a “ S ° UrCe ° f dhand and a. well as

wasanv “bdt e<1 T « a Z e I e * he ° b J eCt of effecti ™ representation.” Nor
was any bill or resolution affecting “any community” to be passed in “any

lfcted n e °1 “ ^ 1 ele0ted b ° dy ” if three - fourtis of that community’s

headed 7 bZahTT * Th ? L “S ue ak ° -PP^ - -pedal committee
of India V- * t0f r. me 3 SCheme f ° r 3 COJlstituti °n for the government
nrese 7“? 81634 3larm the de P lorabla bitterness of feeling at

present existing between the Hindus and Musalmans,” the League further

hers of °° 0I,erate . in esta blishing “conciliatory boards” on which ml

cnees and t C °' nm ™ lHeS couId meet regularly to resolve communal differ-

tions as weT 77 ° ameS ° f C ° nfliCt Jfan3h m ° Ved the aW resoIu -
OUS well as one deploring the present scandalous state of disorganiza-

on existing among Muslims in all spheres of life, which not only pfevents

..II healthy interchange of ideas and co-operation for the good of the Com!

...unity but also seriously handicaps the Muslims in shouldering their proper

government ”u°o lblb4y “. n3ti ° nal Progress and' self-

fhe mZi tr committee was to stimulate “internal solidarity among
Ihc Musalmans of India and another, also chaired by Jinnah would confer

,Te nt 7“ “7 C ° mmittee ' J innah was e l“ted "permanent” presi-

itoou! 1 ^ 7 DeXt thre6 y6arS t0 giV6 him ttae t0 C "V

, p revitalization of Muslim India. Three years was not

•'Hough, but it was a beginning.

iv T 7 “r Was blasted ° ut of * e Khilafat movement by Turkey’s
evident Mustafa Kemal Ataturk (1881-1938) who formally abolished the
; I hate in October 1924. The fallout in India from that shattered pillar of
' acce lerating Hindu-Muslim riots. From the Pathans of

No,) West Front,er to the Moplahs of Malabar, from Kashmir to Dacca,
ge l Muslims the length and breadth of South Asia turned againrt
U boring Hindus to vent frustrations at having lost their khalif. Hindus,
n, lotabaled. with militant revivalist organizations, like the Mahasabhn
i0K **' "conversions” (shuddhi) of; unwilling Muslims

u..organizations” (.wmgntrm) tlrilled and marched

' !il !"" " ‘ l ‘”" lnol, ' d .."fly luring Muslims fro.. in their

"'"“I"™’ "' d, ™' Iml .. nllaeklng ..,.. .... ,,

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

Each flurry led to more retaliatory raids, provoking full-fledged riots, leaving
countless dead, wounded, and embittered.

Motilal Nehru, as head of the Swarajist faction within Congress (Das
fell mortally ill in 1924), was Gandhi’s only competitor for leadership of
that organization. In August 1924, in a “Very Confidential” letter, the Ma¬
hatma wrote Motilal to inform him that he was “prepared to facilitate your
securing the Congress machinery, actually assisting you to do so,” and
would “In no case ... be party to vote-catching,” claiming “no interest in
anything but promoting a peaceful atmosphere,” and adding “If you are not
prepared to take over the whole of the Congress machinery, I am quite pre¬
pared to facilitate your taking over those Provinces where you think you
have no difficulty in running it.” Almost as an afterthought, however, in the
very same letter, Gandhi named those who have been “insistent” that he
[Gandhi] should become president himself, concluding: “The only condition
that will make me reconsider my position would be your desire that I should
accept. Will you please consult Messrs. Das, Kelkar and others and let mo
know what you would advise?” 12

The Mahatma’s continued boycott of all councils undermined Motilal*#
position within both Legislative Assembly and Congress. Gandhi had pub¬
lished a statement of “Fundamental Difference” with the Swarajists that
May, concluding that “Council-entry is inconsistent with Non-co-operation,
as I conceive it.” 13

Motilal was thus faced with the need to choose, by mid-1924, between
continuing his party’s assembly alliance with Jinnah and risking the loss of
Gandhi’s confidence and erosion of his Congress position, or moving the
other way. It was not an easy decision. The elder Nehru wrestled with II
all summer, inviting Gandhi to stay as his guest at the family beach house in j
Bombay’s Juhu during August, trying to convince the Mahatma of tilt!
“nation-building utility” of Swarajist work within the assembly. Motilul'N
son, Jawaharlal, who was Congress secretary that year, joined them for
those vacation summits but recalled that he and his father “did not succeed
in winning Gandhiji, or even in influencing him to any extent.” The Ma¬
hatma’s only match for stubbornness in recent Indian history was Jinnah.
“Behind all the friendly talks and the courteous gestures, the fact remained
that there was no compromise,” wrote the younger Nehru. “I also returned
from Juhu . . . disappointed, for Gandhiji did not resolve a single one ol; my
doubts. As is usual with him, he refused to look into the future, or lay down
any long-distance program.” 14 Jawaharlal rightly called it a tug-of-war bo
tween his father and Gandhi.

Capitulating to Gomlhi’N position. Motilal got his assembly Swarajists lo
agree after mid-year In "throw out all proposals lor legislative enaetmenlN

NI'IVV DELHI (1924-28)

by which the bureaucracy proposes to consolidate its power.” While admit¬
ting "It is conceivable that some good may incidentally result from a few of
’.in h measures,” Motilal insisted, “we are clearly of opinion that in the larger
interest of the country it is better to temporarily sacrifice such little benefits
inllier than add an iota to the powers of the bureaucracy.” 15 That “Swarajist
'•I Moment” presaged the death of the Nationalist party, for Jinnah and his
Independents refused to engage in “obstructionist tactics” within the assem¬
bly continuing to consider each motion on its merits, voting for or against
n measure only because they believed it might advance or retard the eco¬
nomic or constitutional development of India.

I hiring his visit to Bombay that summer, Gandhi spoke to the “Parsi cir-

• li 1 1 Excelsior Theatre to raise funds for Malabar flood relief. Kanji Dwar-
I* ados attended the meeting and walked in Jinnah’s Nagpur footsteps, ad-
diev.ing Gandhi as “Mister” and noting that a great deal of “dirty work” had
In en done under the mantle of “Mahatma.” Kanji was loudly heckled from
ili« audience, but Gandhi rose on this occasion to his critic’s defense, stating
Unit

I lie word “Mahatma” stinks in my nostrils; and, in addition to that,
when somebody insists that everyone must call me “Mahatma” I get
nausea, I do not wish to live. Had I not known that the more I insist
im the word “Mahatma” not being used, the more does it come into
vogue, I would most certainly have insisted. In the Ashram where I
live, (.'very child, brother and sister has orders not to use the word
"Mahatma .” 16

II a a 1 , the closest he came to a public apology to Jinnah for what had hap-
I" "i d at Nagpur almost four years earlier. He must have known that Kanji
" ""Id report what he said to Mr. and Mrs. “J.”

11"Ilie saw almost as much of Kanji by now as she did of her busy hus-
I ""I ami "communicated” more openly and more intimately with him. She
Im.I iiuiied lo mysticism for solace, and Kanji was her guide in the realm of

• an' «X magnetizing, and thought transference. Wrote Kanji: “Ruttie was
"iti ii'ielv Interested in contacting the non-physical world and she made diffi-

"lt ""I dangerous experiments to verify her beliefs and convictions. She
i\ mil' ll /ilrs I hand knowledge.” 17 Just how difficult or “dangerous” her “ex-
pwlun ills" were is unclear, but she seems to have been taking drugs for
miiii I""'', lullially to help her cope with insomnia and depression perhaps.
• iplimi. morphine, hashish, and cocaine were, of course, readily available in
ihe pm l "I Bombay. She wrote Kanji in November 1924:

I here Is a mailer ahoiil which I am most anxious to speak with you,

". I 11 1 1 11 Is you can help me. Lately I have* hern very much drawn to-

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

wards the subject of Spirit Communication and I am most anxious to
know more and to get at the Truth. It is such an elusive Subject and
the more I hear of it the more puzzled do I become, though still more
passionately interested. I have some sort of an idea that you must be
cognisant of spiritual circles in our City, whose Seance one may join.

I don’t profess any creed nor do I subscribe to a belief, but ... I am
too deeply immersed in the matter now to give it up without some
personal satisfaction for I cannot content myself with other peoples’
experiences ... I would prefer my identity, however, to remain un¬
known while you make enquiries. And I sincerely hope that you will
be able to assist me. 18

A month later, Ruttie wrote again to remind him that “What I am after is a
Seance controlled by some experienced medium ... as I am most anxious
to get a personal experience of this matter in which I so passionately be¬
lieve.” 19 Her loneliness, her desperate need for some one to talk with and to
discuss questions that interested her “so passionately” was palpable: “Do
come and see me soon so that we may resume our chat of the last occasion.

“My dear Kanji,” she wrote the following April, “Yes, I know of the
dream travels of which you speak. But I do all my dreaming in my waking
hours. . . . There is nothing I would welcome with greater rejoicing than
an experience of the sort to which you refer in your letter, but in my heavy
druglike sleep there is no redeeming feature . . . five or at most six hours
rest ... a restive mind, and a correspondingly restless physical state ... I
don’t dream excepting very rarely.” She was now twenty-five years old. “My
soul is too clogged! and though I aspire and crave, God knows how earnestly,
my researches remain uncrowned—even by thorns! I am feeling peculiarly
restless and wish one with psychic powers could come to my assistance.” 20

She tried her best to arouse her husband’s interest in such things. Writ¬
ing to report to Kanji, she even thought she had succeeded.

I am slowly, but surely drawing J’s interest into the matter and by al¬
ternate bullying and coaxing I got him to read that book “The Spirit
of Irene.” . . . J. had to admit that it was remarkable and irrefut¬
able. . . . The incident deals with the tracing of a murder ... it
revolves round a poor girl—a cook—who was decoyed from London to
Boscomb and then done to death, the details of the crime are horri¬
ble, it having been a crime of lust. The police being baffled by the
cunning of the man, were at their wits end, or you may be sure they
would not have consented to hold Seance. Anyway they got the
needed clue and the evidence was of such a nature that the unfortu¬
nate man was hanged. . . . J. was not at all events able to find any
flaw In the anNe. ,ai

NEW DELHI ( 1924 - 28 )

One can hardly imagine Jinnah devoting much time or attention to
“Irene.” His legal practice alone remained so demanding that Ruttie added
in this letter of April 12, 1925, “It doesn’t look as if we were going to Kash-
mere after all, as J. is engaged in the Bawla case.” Kanji kept her well sup¬
plied with books of all kinds, his own literary reviews, and plays (she spe¬
cially enjoyed Noel Coward). Throughout 1925 he saw her regularly, three
or four times a week. Dina was now six, and Kanji tried to convince Ruttie
to send her to school in Madras, at the headquarters of Mrs. Besant’s Theo-
sophical Society. Jinnah resisted that move, sensing no doubt, that it would
further alienate his daughter from her own community. He may have feared
he would soon “lose” his only daughter, as Sir Dinshaw had lost his. By June
1925, Ruttie was “ill again” and wrote “dear Kanji” as it was “nearing 2 a.m.
I am frightfully tired and sleepy but the thought of you having come to me
I simply had to crawl out of bed to write to you—to ease my conscience if
nothing else. Will you excuse me and let me get back now.” 22 She told
Jinnah in July that she would go with Kanji to the Theosophical Society’s
Jubilee Convention in Madras that December. The Muslim League would
meet in Aligarh. She was to have been initiated as a theosophist by Mrs.
Mesant at the jubilee, but then Ruttie’s cat “fell ill,” delaying her departure
ii week. She did, however, meet Annie Besant at Adyar before year’s end,
and the older woman immediately perceived how “unhappy” she was, re¬
proving Kanji’s amazement at that verdict with: “Don’t you see unhappiness
In her eyes? Look at her.” 23

Despite his disclaimers of interest, Gandhi finally did preside over the

< longress in 1925 but, as he insisted, “only as a businessman presides at
business meetings.” The 1921 census figures revealed such rapid growth
among Muslims in both wings of the north that they were now a majority
In the Punjab (54.8 percent) and in Bengal (52.7 percent). This develop¬
ment stimulated demands for renegotiating the Lucknow Pact formula, with
many League leaders from both Muslim-majority provinces no longer will¬
ing to rest content with the prospect of mere minority council status. The
wedge of communal separation was thus driven deeper, irreversibly divid¬
ing the Muslim League from Congress, even as Muslim disillusion with

< .imdliiiin methods of non-cooperation grew.

It was Reading’s final year in India. The viceroy valued Jinnah’s assem¬
bly work highly enough to offer to include his name that December on the
nm i-lrd list he was recommending for knighthood, if only Jinnah would
ii gire in accept that honor. "I prefer to he plain Mr. Jinnah,” he replied, “I
I in vi' lived as plain Mr. Jinnah and I hope to die as plain Mr. Jinnah.” 11 ' 1
Itiililr reportedly responded to it query of how she would like being ad-
d roused "Lady jltiiiiili," by snapping 'll my husband uronpls kntgbl hood I

88 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

will take a separation from him.” The latter course may have been an option
she contemplated by now. It was one she would, at any rate, exercise a few
years later, even though Jinnah was never knighted. His increased conserva¬
tism and growing Islamic consciousness contributed to the ideological gulf
that divided them. There were more personal gulfs as well. He was prac¬
tically fifty, she was half that age, and they were attuned to different har¬
monies. Not that he ever stopped loving her—he hoped, in fact, that they
might recapture the magic of their early years in the spring and summer
of 1926, when he took her abroad with him on a tour that included London,
Paris, Canada, and the United States.

Jinnah had been appointed to the assembly’s Sandhurst Committee in
1925, chaired by then army chief of staff Lieutenant General Sir Andrew
Skeen, to study the feasibility of establishing a military college like Sand¬
hurst in India. He was one of three Indian subcommittee members invited
to undertake the grand tour of inspection of military colleges and installa¬
tions overseas, leaving Bombay early in April and returning home in August.
Ruttie was nervous about the trip and wrote her friend shortly before leav¬
ing, “Kanji, I am going away to Europe and U. S. A. for a few months. You
will not be with me to protect me and help me. Do please, therefore, mag¬
netise something for me to keep me in touch with you.” 25 She gave him a
beautiful jade brooch she wore, and he “magnetised it with thoughts of love
and protection.” (Jinnah never believed in such things and used to laugh at
her for putting faith in amulets, Ruttie reported to Kanji after her return
home.) But instead of being a second honeymoon, it was their final trip
together.

Ruttie’s health deteriorated rapidly after their trip abroad. “I suppose
we all have our moments of melancholy and moments when everything
seems to be impending and yet nothing happens—a sort of waiting mood,
and one just waits and waits and grows distrustful of life,” she wrote her
best friend early in 1927. “I am always glad when you come. So don’t please
let any idea of my not being strong enough and well enough keep you
away. . . . P.S. I am quite alright again and were it not that my feet are
ugly and swollen I should be getting about as usual. As it is I go calling at
my friends and to-night I am going to cinema—in bedroom slippers as no
shoes are large enough to accommodate my elegant and lily-like feet!! Had
X-rays taken and find that the broken needle is still there, so am trying to
make up my mind to undergo another operation.” 20 She lavished most of her
time and emotional energy now on her numerous pets, cats and dogs, each
of which she pampered, nursed, and treated us u child. For unlike Dina,
who was out all day til school or preoccupied with friends, the pots were
hors ulnar In londle, N|)oll, unci project all <il her fee I lags mid fears upon.

NEW DELHI (1924-28) 89

The Muslim League’s devoted secretary, Syed Shamsul Hasan, wrote
that “After the shifting of the League Office to Delhi in February 1927, I
acted as a sort of chamberlain to the Quaid [Jinnah] whenever he visited
Delhi. His relations with his wife, Mariam [Ruttie’s Muslim name], were es¬
tranged during this period . . . and he resided alone, sometimes at the Cecil
[one of Old Delhi’s best hotels] or Maiden’s and sometimes at the West¬
ern Courts—the accommodation provided by the Government for the mem¬
bers of the Legislative Assembly. He was not as careful about his health
as in other matters. The Delhi winters did not suit him; and he often suf¬
fered from severe attacks of cold and flu. In spite of his poor health, he
attended the Assembly . . . and devoted most of his time and energy to
political activities.” 27 This may have marked the beginning of the complex
and compounded malignant lung disease that would take his life twenty-one
years later. Was it coincidence that Jinnah’s powerful constitution should
have suddenly started to deteriorate then? His separation from Ruttie was
surely a severe blow. (Her lungs and body were more afflicted than his and
too frail to survive another two years.) And the combination of the Delhi
winters, knowing he had lost the one love of his life, and the collapse of his
faith in the bona fides of an imperial system he had always trusted irrepa¬
rably wounded him. He would never breathe easily again.

For India as a whole, as well as for Jinnah personally, 1927 was a year of
shattered hopes and dreams. A full decade had expired since Montagu’s
ringing words had given wings to soaring nationalist expectations. Yet do¬
minion status, independence, Sivaraj, seemed more remote than ever. Indian
Secretary of State Lord Birkenhead (1872-1930) and his Tory clique knew
I bat their own days of Westminster power were numbered, making them all
i Ik; more determined to bum their brand of narrow imperial rule into India’s

I lido. Ramsay MacDonald’s Labour opposition was growing stronger with
every by-election, and rather than wait for the inevitable Labour victory

II ml would come in 1929, the Tory cabinet decided to jump the gun by ap¬
pointing its own Royal Statutory Commission in 1927, carrying out the man-
1 1 ill c of the Act of 1919, well before the deadline expired to chart the “next

h p" in constitutional advance for India. Birkenhead could now choose the
membership of that mighty commission and appointed his barrister friend,
Mi |olin Simon (1873-1954), and six other Englishmen, all equally unin-
limned about India. 28 Reading’s successor as viceroy, Edward Wood, Lord
1 1 win (Inter Halifax) (1881-1959), more sympathetic and sensitive to In-
• linn reelings, bad urged the appointment ol at least two Indian members
mi llils Muo-i'lbboi) body, but Birkenhead wanted bis “jury,” as he thought
ill (hem, in do their research in India "without any preconceived prejudice.” 20
|innal i Inal written llie viceroy In June explicitly to warn him that "the

90 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

personnel of the Commission is far more important than any other factor in
this matter.” 30 Had he hoped to be appointed himself? Most probably. He
was always generous in helping government with his time and deep under¬
standing of what needed to be done to reform India’s constitution, and work
was his only solace now. Doubly bitter was the draught of rejection Jinnah
was obliged to swallow then with the rest of India’s ignored and wasted
leadership, which was so publicly rejected, repudiated that November by
Lord Birkenhead’s lily-white list. As if with one impassioned voice, India
would respond, “Simon, go back!” when the commission reached Bombay’s
port February next, its years of projected labor doomed, torpedoed before
it ever got underway, by the pig-headedness of a narrow-minded coterie of
imperial managers who put their selfish interests above the needs, aspira¬
tions, and just demands of most of humankind.

The Muslim League divided over the Simon Commission issue. A small
group, mostly from the Punjab, lined up behind ex-Law Minister Shafi and
met in Lahore, where they voted to welcome and cooperate with the com¬
mission. Most members of the League’s council, however, joined the “Jinnah
Group” in Calcutta, meeting on December 30, 1927, and New Year’s Day,
1928. Annie Besant and Sarojini Naidu attended as honored guests and the
Aga Khan was to have presided, but he withdrew at the last moment. Maulvi
Mohammad Yakub took his place and delivered his presidential address
extempore in Urdu. The most important resolution, carried by acclamation,
declared “emphatically” that “the Statutory Commission and the procedure,
as announced, are unacceptable to the people of India. It [the Jinnah
League] therefore resolves that the Musalmans throughout the country
should have nothing to do with the Commission at any stage or in any
form.” 31 Jinnah was re-elected permanent president of the League for an¬
other three years and thundered:

A constitutional war has been declared on Great Britain. Negotia¬
tions for a settlement are not to come from our side. Let the Govern¬
ment sue for peace. We are denied equal partnership. We will resist
the new doctrine to the best of our power. Jallianwalla Bagh was a
physical butchery, the Simon Commission is a butchery of our souls.

By appointing an exclusively white Commission, Lord Birkenhead has
declared our unfitness for self-government. I welcome Pandit Malaviya
[a leading Congress Hindu in attendance], and I welcome the hand
of fellowship extended to us by Hindu leaders from the platform of
the Congress and the Hindu Mahasabha. For, to me, this offer is more
valuable than any concession which the British Government can
make, Let us then grasp the hand o! fellowship. This is indeed a

NEW DELHI ( 1924-28) 91

bright day; and for achieving this unity, thanks are due to Lord

Birkenhead. 32

The outgoing Tory secretary of state thus achieved in a single act more
than Gandhi and Jinnah alone could accomplish at the peak of their popu¬
larity and powers, momentarily at least reuniting a country still bleeding
from communal wounds, breathing fresh life into the all-but-abandoned
corpses of boycott and non-cooperation, and bringing Gandhi, Jinnah, the
Nehrus, and even old Annie Besant back into harness at the head of a single
mass national movement resolved to reject Birkenhead, Simon, and the
morally bankrupt company they represented.

Calcutta
( 1928 )

The euphoria Jinnah felt at the start of 1928 was to dissipate long before
the year ended. His joy was a brief remission. By year's end the castle of
Hindu-Muslim unity, built on shifting sands of communal mistrust suspi¬
cion, and doubt would be washed away by tides of frustration and discon¬
tent. There was no true turning back, no restoration of that balmy climate
before Nagpur. It was but momentary delusion Jinnah experienced, induce
by the enormity of Birkenhead’s contempt for all Indian politicians. How
insignificant such English arrogance suddenly made his conflicts with Con-

gress colleagues seem. . .

Immediately after Calcutta, Jinnah returned to Bombay to organize the
boycott of Simon and his commission’s imminent entry there. Jinnah chaired
the local boycott committee, and his assistant, Chagla, was its secretary. 1
must say,” Chagla recalled, "Jinnah was as firm as a rock as far as the ques¬
tion of the boycott of the Commission was concerned. Proposals were made
that the boycott should be only political and not social. Jinnah would not
agree and did not give an inch. He said a boycott was a boycott, and it must
be total and complete. We held many meetings in connection with boycott

campaign. We had a mass meeting at the Chowpatty sands. 1

Simon arrived on February 3, 1928, and Jinnah’s boycott proved totally
effective. Gandhi wrote to “tender my congratulations to the organizers tor
the very great success they achieved. ... It did my soul good to see l.ili-
erals Independents and Congressmen ranged together on the same plat¬
form Birkenhead had briefed Simon on the ove of his departure from
London! he wrote to remind Viceroy Irwin the next day: "We have always
rolled <m the iiiin-hoyeoltlng Moslems; mi tho depressed community; on the
business liitaresls; mill on ninny ..is. to break down the attitude of l.oy-

CALCUTTA ( 1928 )

cott. You and Simon must be the judges whether or not it is expedient in
these directions to try to make a breach in the wall of antagonism.” 3 Official¬
dom cracked down with a vengeance as the nationwide boycott proved more
effective than Birkenhead dreamed it would be.

The primacy of Jinnah’s role in this boycott was underscored by Birken¬
head’s singling him out as the leader to be undermined. “I should advise
Simon to see at all stages important people who are not boycotting the Com¬
mission,” Birkenhead urged Irwin, “particularly Moslems and the depressed
classes. I should widely advertise all his interviews with representative
Moslems.” He then announced, as baldly as it had ever been put into writing
by a British official, the “whole policy” of divide et irrvpera, advising that
Simon’s “obvious” goal was “to terrify the immense Hindu population by
the apprehension that the Commission is being got hold of by the Moslems
and may present a report altogether destructive of the Hindu position,
thereby securing a solid Moslem support, and leaving Jinnah high and dry.’ 4

On February 12, Jinnah attended the All-Parties Conference chaired by
Congress president Ansari in Delhi. Motilal and Jawaharlal were there, as
were Lajpat Rai, Malaviya, Jayakar, and most of the other leaders of po¬
litical India. Gandhi did not attend; he remained at his Sabarmati ashram,
placing as he did so little faith in constitutional planning. The conference,
however, was convened to do just that, seeking to provide a single Indian
alternative to whatever formula Simon and the others might fashion. “The
first question discussed by the Conference was the objective to be aimed at
in the constitution. It was proposed that the constitution should aim at es¬
tablishing what is called a dominion form of government in India. Objection
was taken by some members to this on the ground that the Congress had
decided in favour of independence as the goal and no lesser goal should be
aimed at.” 5 Jawaharlal Nehru and ex-Congress president S. Srinivasa Iyengar
(1874-1941) led the latter group, differing sharply from Motilal as well as
Jinnah on this point. The formula finally agreed upon was to frame a con¬
stitution “for the establishment of full responsible government.” The prob-
Icm of Muslim rights and representation was less easily resolved. Wrangling
mid haggling continued for over a week till “The strain was too great for
me and I fled to avoid riot and insurrection!” Jawaharlal reported to Gandhi. 6

Jinnah tried to remain optimistic. The budget session of Delhi’s assembly
bad started before the All-Parties Conference was over, and he convinced a
number of bis independent colleagues there to sign a communal unity “ap¬
pear be drafted. Ten fruitless days alter the conference had begun, how¬
ever, it ended without agreement on any Muslim question. Jayakar, Ma¬
laviya, and Rajput Rai wauled to eliminate separate electorates entirely, yet
they were unwilling to eonerde any of the compensating constitutional

04 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

changes Jinnah demanded in return. Jinnah s position on separate electorates
had always been equiyoeal. They were a necessary evil, the sort of protec¬
tion required by Muslims only as long as the community remained too weak
and too educationally backward to aspire to anything approaching equality
with Hindus. There were, however, ways of assuring Muslims sufficient real
security and constitutional leverage to make such affirmative action crutches
dispensable. Jinnah had, indeed, formulated just such proposals in 1927.
They were accepted by the then still united League in March and substan¬
tially accepted” by Congress in May of 1927.

Those Delhi Muslim Proposals, as they came to be called, “agreed to the
institution of joint electorates under certain conditions.” 7 This strictly con¬
ditional concession and the proposals that followed were, like the Lucknow
Pact, unique products of Jinnah’s ingenious constitutional lawyer s mind. He
was actually able to get twenty-nine leading Muslims, including conserva¬
tives like Shah and Abdul Rahman, to agree to abandoning the League’s
separate electorate foundation stone, which gave Muslims alone the right
to vote for Muslim candidates and would have obliged all Muslim politicians
to appeal to the entire electorate of their constitutency in future contests.
Minimal numbers of Muslim candidates would still have to be elected in all
provinces where Muslims remained minorities, as under the Lucknow Pact,
but similar numbers of Hindu representatives would be required in each
Muslim majority province. Since every candidate would be obliged to ap¬
peal to joint electorates for support, they would all have to tone down, if
not entirely abstain from, narrow communal rhetoric, and run only on na¬
tional issues and appeal more often to secular interests of economic develop¬
ment and reform. All Muslim can&dates elected under such a scheme might
conveivably be congressmen, or Kliilafatists, rather than Muslim leaguers.
It was a bold political concession and proved how broad and selfless Jinnah s
commitment to national principles and the goal of helping India attain full
independence remained.

Nor were the constitutional concessions he demanded in return any less
appropriate, though they would have given Muslim majorities control of
three new full provinces (Sind, the North-West Frontier, and Baluchistan)
and the proportional control they deserved by virtue of their recent popula¬
tion strides in two long-established provincial governments (the Punjab and
Bengal). Sind had till then remained administratively under Bombay's pro¬
vincial control, a relatively recent anomaly of British conquest, which was
hardly justified on deeper historic, geographic, religions, or ethnic grounds.
The North-West Frontin' and lliiliuiiirtun wore slill doeinod “too back¬
ward;' lrll.nl nod turlmlenl. I.y tin- British In enjoy the freedoms of foil
provincial slalus, lienee llwv enolliioeil In lie lullTiilllsleictl by eeiilrnlly-

CALCUTTA(1928)

appointed martial autocrats, without any provincial assemblies. Since the
1921 census, Punjabi and Bengali Muslims had gained absolute majorities
within both of those powerful provinces, but such demographic advance was
not reflected in the composition of their legislatures. Jinnah’s proposals
would, therefore, have given Muslims elective majority control in five pro¬
vincial governments. The final demand was for “not less than one-third
Muslim representation in the central legislature also to be chosen by mixed
electorates.

Jinnah sensed well before the end of February 1928 that Hindu Maha-
sabha pressure had persuaded Congress to back off from its acceptance the
previous May of his new constitutional compromise. He had to remain in
Delhi, however, till the assembly concluded its budget session that March,
and Jinnah convened his League council, which officially “regretted that the
Hindu Mahasabha has practically rejected the Muslim League proposals.
Forced to face the sobering reality of his own countrymen’s parochialism,
jinnah now looked to Lord Irwin for help. He had observed the lean, long-
suffering viceroy closely in the assembly’s chamber during the past two
months and had developed respect for his intellect, diligence, and integrity-
virtues Jinnah always admired. The longer the All-Parties Conference “riot”
continued, in fact, the more attractive Irwin’s cool but competent manner
must have seemed to Jinnah, who finally approached the viceroy in March,
suggesting “two ways” of resolving the current constitutional impasse. One
was by turning Simon’s Commission into a Mixed Commission,” Irwin re-
|,i„|„d lo Birkenhead, “and the other was by establishing a twin Indian

I ... with parallel authority.”" Irwin liked both ideas and found them

. qi,.chilly appealing, since Jinnah promised to “take the brunt of the attack
In India" if either of his cooperative options was implemented. Birkenhead
> lir,ell, however, to consider such changes, pig-headedly insisting, It ‘l |H
uni ilo In take these people too seriously; indeed I find it increasingly dllll
mil lo lake any Indian politicians very seriously.” 1 " Once again, Jinnah
IiiuihJ himself without effective allies.

Weary and depressed, lie went home to Bombay on March .10, 1028,

.. . was not waiting for him in South Court. She had moved to the Taj

M'llinl Hold, renting a suite there by the month. They wore never again • »

.. ..lor the same roof, siill she kept track of his whereabouts, writing

.hat .lav: "I returns today at 2.30 p,m. so I ... She ..Id

. III,. Id g„, She sailed on the I’, AO. for Paris on April 10. with )><•■

Ulll ( 111 ,, jhniuli steamed out of Bombay a inuiilli later ulinard the S.S. Iln/
,u,l,inn Srinivasa Iyengar and tllwan < fli.unnn I ml were Ills fellow paxsuugns

II,.0 May, (human was headed lor Bn I.L.O. .. . In Cnncvn mill

nilr llmI lir IdiiiiiI Jlnniili

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

frankly disgusted. Minor differences over Sind and majority represen¬
tations by reservation and Reforms for the North-West Frontier Prov¬
ince have wrecked, for the moment, all chances of unity. “Give me,”
says Mohammad Ali Jinnah, “three leaders to join me over a united
programme, which was all but accepted at Delhi, and Swaraj will not
be a mere dream but a matter brought within the realm of real poli¬
tics.” . . . Jinnah is frankly in a despondent mood. He is one of the
few men who have no personal motives to nurse or personal aims to
advance. His integrity is beyond question. And yet he has been the
loneliest of men. 12

Jinnah had no official business in London that summer but met with old
Liberal and Labour friends, including Ramsay MacDonald and Lord Read¬
ing, and he visited Dublin at the invitation of Fenner Brockway, Ireland’s
leading pro-Indian member of Parliament, who had just toured India. Jinnah
was in Ireland when Chaman Lai, who had visited Paris after his work .in
Geneva ended, conveyed an urgent message about Ruttie. She was “deliri¬
ous” with “a temperature of 108 degrees.” 13 He reached Paris in two days
and spoke with Lady Petit immediately after checking into the George V.
Ruttie’s mother informed him that her daughter was feeling “better,” but
then Chaman Lai arrived to report that he had just come from her hospital
bed, where she was “dying.” 14

He sat still for a couple of minutes, struggling with himself and asked
me to telephone the clinic which I did. He spoke to the nurse in
charge who confirmed what I had told him. Thumping the arm of his
chair, he said: “Come, let us go. We must save her.” I left him at the
clinic for nearly three hours, waiting at a nearby cafe and when he
returned, the anxiety had vanished from his face. He had arranged
for a new clinic and a new medical adviser and all was going to be
well. But alas! although Mrs. Jinnah recovered, she did not stay on
with her husband but returned ahead of him to Bombay and I do not
think they met again. 15

While Jinnah was abroad. Congress president Dr. Ansari chaired a May
18 meeting in Bombay of some members of the February All-Parties Con¬
ference who resolved to appoint a “commission” led by Motilal Nehru to
draft a nationalist constitution by July 1. This Nehru commission, the Con¬
gress counterpart to the Simon commission, proved equally ineffectual,
however, completing its deliberations without powerful Muslim representa¬
tion and failing to win the support of Muslim India’s leading luminaries,
even as Simon had failed in India as a whole. The Nehru commission could
not complete its work on lime. Motilal was quite busy tlml summer with
polities, still .seeking wlm! Gandhi culled I In* "(Irown" of llic (!< ingress pres I-

CALCUTTA (1928)

dency, more for Jawaharlal than himself. Motilal would agree in December
to wear that crown rather than allow it to elude his family altogether.

The Nehru commission met in Lucknow during the last week in August
to hammer out a report based on proposals drafted by Motilal and Jawa¬
harlal in Allahabad that summer. Motilal tried to anticipate Jinnah’s objec¬
tions and to adopt positions acceptable to him on the most thorny issues; he
invited Chagla to Lucknow, where Sarojini Naidu and Annie Besant met
with the Nehrus and Sir Tej Bahadur Sapru, then leader of the National
Liberal Federation. “I think my main contribution to the Report was my
steadfast adherence to the belief in joint electorates,” Chagla noted. “Motilal
Nehru for a moment thought, that in order to get the minorities to accept
the Report, we should agree to separate electorates. I argued we were draft¬
ing a Constitution not for the present but for the future [Chagla was then
27]—a document which was expected to endure for a long time, and we
must not therefore incorporate into it any principle which on the face of it
was anti-national. Ultimately Motilal agreed.” 16 Chagla “accepted the Re¬
port” at Lucknow “on behalf of the Muslim League.” When Jinnah returned
lo Bombay, his young assistant was the first person to greet him in his ship’s
cabin and found Jinnah “furious” with him. Instead of acting impetuously
jinnah said he would “reserve judgment, and we will consider the report at
a regular meeting of the League.” 17 For Jinnah and Chagla, however, there
would be no return to earlier days of cordial friendship and trust. Nor would
| innnh ever agree to accept the Nehru report as anything other than the
I Imdu position” on his Delhi Muslim Proposals of the previous year.

Democratic though the Nehru report may have been in principle, it
I inidamentally repudiated the Lucknow Pact and offered no compensatory
ml vantages to the Muslim community. There were platitudinous exhortations
•iiicli as: “The doing away of communal electorates is intended to promote
communal unity by making each community more or less dependent on the
oilier at the time of the elections.” 18 Such words must have sounded disin¬
genuous to those who had lived through years of violence and communal
discrimination. Jinnah, at any rate, was not prone to accept superficial
promises nor to express himself prematurely. His first pronouncement con-
< cmlng the Nehru report came late in October: “My position as President
nl lI k- All-India Muslim League is one which does not permit me to antici-
I hi lc decisions of the League.” 111 At the same time he appealed to all Muslims
"nnl lo be alarmed. I sec no reason for consternation and stampede. Muslims
liniild organise themselves, stand united and should press every reasonable
point lor the protection <>l their community. an I be day after Jinnah s re¬
marks lill the headlines, Motilal wrote to Invito him to Join the committee
and atlcud Its forthcoming I)elhl meeting, 1,1

° JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

Jinnah refused Motilal s invitation. The Muslim League had not as yet
had a chance to meet to consider the Nehru proposals, he argued, and “As
the President of the League ... it would not do for me to anticipate then-
decisions. 22 It was one of his most effective negotiating techniques, part of
the secret of his singular power, for he always magnified himself by the
force of his entire party whenever he felt unhappy about the terms of an
offer. He was just then leaving for Sind to take charge of the defense of a
wealthy and powerful Muslim pir of its northernmost district.

Pir Pagaro had been jailed at Sukkur for “allegedly wrongful confinement
of some one and for keeping a large number of arms un-authorizedly in his
possession. - 3 His trial was held in a special magistrate’s court in the Sukkur
district. There Jinnah stayed in the government circuit house, Sukkur’s only
decent accommodation, on a hilltop overlooking the Indus and the massive
dam that spanned it. He commanded 500 rupees a day, a very handsome fee
at the time. Although the magistrate convicted Pagaro, Jinnah appealed two
years later, and had his client’s sentence reduced.

Two significant things occurred while Jinnah was in Sind. He met young
Mohammed Khuhro, who then worked for Pir Pagaro and was destined to
become independent Pakistan’s chief minister of Sind. And Mian Sir Haji
Haroon, a princely ruler of neighboring Khairpur State and one of Jinnah’s
Independent party assembly colleagues, held a fete in his honor at the or¬
nate Khairpur House, which Jinnah attended in a most fashionable modern
Sindhi costume—black sherwani, choridar pyjamas, and pump shoes. Jinnah
took this occasion to speak to the Muslim elite of Sind, several of whom
would become his strongest backers and lieutenants during the two remain¬
ing decades of his life.

Before leaving Sind on November 10, Jinnah had openly discussed his
grave concerns and pessimism about Motilal’s committee and its report with
fellow Muslims. He would be going to Calcutta in December but antici¬
pated—quite accurately as it turned out—that the convention there might
prove the parting of the ways.” Had he decided, in fact, prior to December
in Calcutta that it was time to abandon the indigenous all-parties search for
a constitutional solution” acceptable to every shade, caste, and religious
community of India s pluralistic spectrum? Had he concluded that it might
be more profitable—and less hazardous—for the Muslim League to go it
alone in negotiating with the British? For what had all the time spent in all¬
parties haggling accomplished, after all? Were he and the leaders of the
Hindu Mahasabha any closer to consensus than they had been five years
ago? With increasingly fragile health he must have felt more keenly the
futility ol long meetings will) hundreds of shouting. Impoilmiule delegates,

CALCUTTA ( 1928 )

some of whom could hardly speak the English language, most of whom had
never drafted a legal document. Nor was he simply being middle-aged and
irritable, though he would soon be at least fifty-two!

At Lucknow, the meeting of Jinnah’s League council did not go as he
hoped it would, and to his personal disappointment he found many good
Muslim colleagues so enamoured of the Nehru report that he dared not call
for a vote on it in early November. Even the maharaja of Mahmudabad, who
was elected that year’s president of the Muslim League, liked the report and
was ready to accept it. Chagla was overjoyed to find so many allies and
hoped Jinnah would see the wisdom of his earlier actions, but Jinnah re¬
mained set against the Nehru “constitution,” viewing it only as a “Hindu”
document.

Motilal, Dr. Ansari, and Maulana Azad met with him in Lucknow, urging
him to attend a special meeting of the Nehru committee before the League
or Congress met in December, and before the All-Parties Convention would
be convened in Calcutta, to try to fashion a compromise formula on com¬
munal issues. Jinnah turned them down. He still insisted that first his League
had to meet and officially take its stand. He asked Motilal to postpone the
convention till early next year after both annual sessions of League and
Congress. Then he returned to Bombay and prepared for a provincial
League meeting, which was held on November 23, hoping at least to win a
majority in his home town. But Chagla stood up and argued so effectively
for the Nehru report that Jinnah adjourned the meeting without putting the
question to a vote. Had he sensed once again that on this issue he sided with
a minority of his own party? Jinnah was growing short-tempered, feeling
more isolated and dispirited.

In an earlier “confidential” letter to his own committee, Motilal had re¬
ported, after meeting with Jinnah in Lucknow, that Jinnah “objected to the
Convention being held before the meeting of the Muslim League on the
ground that the authority to represent the League at the Convention could
only be derived from the League ... I may mention that had the Report
of the Committee and the Lucknow decisions been taken into consideration
they would have been approved by a greater majority [of the Muslim
I .<‘ague’s Council] than that which elected the Maharaja of Mahmudabad as
President of the League. It is expected that the result will be the same at the
open session of the League.” 24 Motilal was obviously kept well informed of
Jinmvli’s plight within his own party and felt less need to cater to his de¬
mands than he might otherwise have done, lie misjudged Jinnah’s resilience,
however, by midorestimating his powers. II was a fatal error, not only for his
report, but for Ills hopes of retaining India as n united entity. The All-India

101

100 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

National Convention started as scheduled in Calcutta on December 22, but
no officially appointed representatives of the Muslim League arrived to at¬
tend its crowded sessions till December 28.

Following recitations from the Quran, Abdul Karim, the chairman of the
League’s reception committee, welcomed its delegates on December 26, at
the opening of Jinnah’s League’s annual meeting in Calcutta “on the eve of
momentous changes in the Constitution and administration in India.” Karim
regretted that “some forces were at work to divide the political strength of
the Muslims of India at a time when vital interests, both of the community
and the country, required that there should be solid unity.” 25 On Decem¬
ber 27, the League voted to appoint twenty-three delegates to represent
it and “take part in the deliberations of the Convention called by the In¬
dian National Congress.” That deputation, led by Mahmudabad and Jin-
nah, included thirty-two-year-old Nawabzada Liaquat Ali Khan (1896-
1951), who was to become Pakistan’s first prime minister, and Chagla, who
was to be India’s minister of external affairs (1966-67). Chagla recalled that
“Jinnah was in favour of outright rejection [of the Nehru report]. . . . After
a long and protracted debate, we ultimately decided . . . three important
amendments. One was that separate electorates should remain, second, that
there should be reservation of one-third of the seats in the Central Legisla¬
ture, and third, residuary powers should be vested in the Provinces.” 26

Jinnah presented the Muslim case before the national convention on
December 28. He insisted it was “absolutely essential to our progress that a
Hindu-Muslim settlement should be reached, and that all communities
should live in a friendly and harmonious spirit in this vast country of ours.” 27

Allahabad’s Sir Tej Bahadur Sapru, ex-law member of the viceroy’s coun¬
cil, rose to respond to Jinnah’s plea.

If you examine the figures you will find that, including nominated
members, Muslim representation in the Central Legislature is 27 per
cent and Mr. Jinnah wants 33. . . . Speaking for myself, I would like
you to picture Mr. Jinnah, whom I have known intimately for fifteen
years. If he is a spoilt child, a naughty child, I am prepared to say,
give him what he wants and be finished with it. 28

However, Poona’s M. R. Jayakar, then deputy leader of the Nationalist party
in the assembly, spokesman for the Hindu Mahasabha at the convention, was
less willing to “pamper” Jinnah than Sapru had been.

I have also known Mr. Jinnah for the last .sixteen years in close asso¬
ciation ns a colleague in nationalist life and I cun assure you that lie
comes before us today neither as a naughty hoy nor as a spoiled

CALCUTTA (1928)

child. . . . One important fact to remember ... is that well-known
Muslims like the esteemed patriots Maulana Abul Kalam Azad, Dr.
Ansari, Sir Ali Imam, Raja Sahib of Mahmudabad and Dr. Kitchlew
have given their full assent to the compromise embodied in the Nehru
Committee Report. It is further to be borne in mind that even in the
Muslim League a large body of members have given their assent to
the Nehru Committee Report. Mr. Jinnah, therefore, represents, if I
may say so without offence, a small minority of Muslims. 29

He knew, of course, just how offensive a slap that was to Jinnah s ego and
sensitivity, and there was applause and many a thump of approval as Jayakar
sat down.

Jinnah responded softly, yet spoke with an intensity of control he had
not publicly displayed since Nagpur.

We are engaged to-day in a very serious and solemn transaction. . . .

We are here, as I understand, for the purpose of entering into a sol¬
emn contract and all parties who enter into it will have to work for
it and fight for it together. What we want is that Hindus and Mus¬
lims should march together until our object is attained. Therefore it
is essential that you must get not only the Muslim League but the
Musalmans of India and here I am not speaking as a Musalman but
as an Indian. . . . Would you be content with a few? Would you be
content if I were to say, I am with you? Do you want or do you not
want the Muslim India to go along with you? . . . Minorities cannot
give anything to the majority. It is, therefore, no use asking me not
to press for what you call “these small points.” I am not asking for
these modifications because I am a “naughty child.” If they are small
points, why not concede? It is up to the majority, and majority alone
can give. I am asking you for this adjustment because I think it is the
best and fair to the Musalmans. . . . We are all sons of this land. We
have to live together. We have to work together and whatever our
differences may be, let us at any rate not create more bad blood. If
we cannot agree, let us at any rate agree to differ, but let us part as
blends. Believe me there is no progress of India until the Musalmans
a i id I lindus are united, and let no logic, philosophy or squabble stand
In the way of coming to a compromise and nothing will make me
more happy than to see a Hindu-Muslim union. 30

lie must have sensed that the restless jury he addressed had made up
iI iHi minds against him long before he reached the end of his argument,
unruly by the time lie said "let ns part as friends." For this marked a major
IMilnl nl departure In Jlnnali's liie, an even .sharper veering oil from the road

102

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

of Congress and all it represented than Nagpur had been eight years earlier.
He had delivered his swan song to Indian nationalism. The dream stirred by
Dadabhai’s ringing voice in Westminster’s Commons, nurtured by Morley
and Pherozeshah, enriched by Gokhale and Montagu, all those long lost
I dberal giants was dead. Born thespian that he was, Jinnah spoke his lines
to a packed, if not always friendly, house before each curtain fell on a major
act of his political life. Nagpur had ended Act One. Calcutta finished Act
Two. This time there would be a longer intermission.

Simla

( 1929 - 30 )

Jinnah adjourned his faction of the Muslim League after a stormy session
that followed the Calcutta convention debacle. He left Mahmudabad,
Chagla and their youthful allies, and Bengal behind, entraining for Delhi
before the year’s end. On New Year’s Day of 1929 he entered the All-Parties
Muslim Conference presided over by the Aga Khan in the ancient capital of
Turco-Afghan sultans and Mughal emperors. Shall was there with his Pun¬
jabi cohort when Jinnah walked into the silken pandal pitched on the parade
ground of the Red Fort that Shah Jahan had built. Bearded mullahs and
knighted bejewelled princes of Islam sat side by side. Jinnah entered late,
and sat alone. He was as yet undecided how long he would remain back
among his fold, who must have seemed almost as foreign and uncongenial
to him as the other, larger crowd from which he had just fled. The radical
Ali brothers were there, together with nawabs and rajas from many a Mus¬
lim state. Was this really his home? Were these truly his people?

“It was a vast gathering representative of all shades of Muslim opinion,”
wrote the Aga Khan, recalling the conference. “I can claim to be the parent
<il Us important and lasting political decisions. After long, full and frank dis¬
cussions we were able to adopt unanimously a series of principles which we
set out in a manifesto.” 1 The first of these was that “the only form of gov¬
ernment suitable to Indian conditions is a federal system with complete
autonomy and residuary powers vested in the constituent states.” The next
iciilllrmed separate Muslim electorates, and others asserted further Muslim
"weightngc" demands in provincial and central governments, as well as for
die civil services. II was not yet Pakistan, but almost its early embryo, within
a weak federal womb. The League's weighty royal father, driven from the
bridge of bis communal vessel a decade mid a hall earlier, was ill the helm

104

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

of Muslim India again. His nationalist mutineer was welcomed effusively
aboard. “The unanimity of this conference was especially significant,” re¬
flected His Highness, “for it marked the return—long delayed and for the
moment private and with no public avowal of his change of mind—of Mr.
M. A. Jinnah to agreement with his fellow Muslims. Mr. Jinnah had attended
the Congress party’s meeting in Calcutta shortly before, and had come to
the conclusion that for him there was no future in Congress or in any camp—
allegedly on an All-India basis—which was in fact Hindu-dominated. We
had at last won him over to our view.” 2

Well might the Aga Khan gloat over that victory, though Jinnah did not
become his malleable vassal, or ever rejoin the Khoja fold. His Highness
understood, however, the value of so priceless a prodigal’s return. Nor was
it the royal “we” he used in that last sentence. Shafi and Sir Fazl-i Husain
and others had helped him win Jinnah “over to our view.” They could not
have achieved it without Jayakar’s unwitting aid. That there would be “no
public avowal” of his “agreement” indicates at least Jinnah’s ambivalence
about joining forces with so conservatively pro-British a team. He had, in¬
deed, concluded there was “no future” for him in Congress or any “Hindu-
dominated” political party. Shifting into reverse to keep pace with the Aga
Khan and Shafi could hardly be accomplished without first idling, however,
in neutral gear.

by mid-January he was back in Bombay. Ruttie was virtually bedridden
al the Taj Hotel, going out rarely and then only “for short walks” with Kanji.
Jinnah went to visit her there—he must have known she was near the end.
Kanji remained at her side, and till the assembly budget session started early
in February, Jinnah dropped in “every evening” and talked with them both
"as in the old times.” 3 Naively, Kanji believed that “they were getting recon¬
ciled to each other.” But that was even more an illusion than the reconcili¬
ation of Congress and the League had been. “Look after my cats and don’t
give them away,” she asked Kanji on February 18, 1929, being too weak to
say any more. Two days later, on what would have been her twenty-ninth
birthday, Ruttie Petit Jinnah died.

(human Lai was chatting with Jinnah in his Western Court apartment in
New Delhi “when a trunk call was put through to him from Bombay. He
•spoke calmly saying lie would leave that night. He came towards me, after
the conversation was over and said: ‘Hati is seriously ill. I must leave to¬
night' and then there was a pause. 'Do you know,' lie added, ‘who that was?
It was my lather In-law. tills Is tin’ first time we have spoken to each other
since my marriage,' I persuaded him to leave the next morning by the
I‘Yonder Mail as the night train would not gel him to Hombiiy any quicker.

Simla (1929-30) 105

I did not know then but learnt only later that Rati was not merely seriously
ill but she was actually dead.” 4

The funeral was held at Bombay’s Muslim cemetery on February 22.
Kanji met Jinnah’s train at Grant Road Station and drove him there, trying
to convince him “that Ruttie would have liked to be cremated,” but “she was
buried under Muslim rites.” 5 It was a painfully slow ritual. Jinnah sat silent
through all of its five hours. “Then, as Ruttie’s body was being lowered into
the grave, Jinnah, as the nearest relative was the first to throw the earth on
the grave and he broke down suddenly and sobbed and wept like a child for
minutes together.” 6 Chagla was also there, and he too recalled “there were
actually tears in his eyes,” adding, “That was the only time when I found
Jinnah betraying some shadow of human weakness.” 7

By early March he was back in New Delhi’s assembly, responding to
Motilal’s cut motion on “touring expenses” for the viceroy’s cabinet, which
raised the constitutional question of redress of grievances before granting
supplies and hence opened the door to debate on the Nehru report. “The
differences between Hindus and Muslims over the Report remain unresolved
and, therefore, the attempt of making an agreed Constitution for India has
become a dead issue,” Jinnah rejoined. Motilal tried his best to elude that
objection, but Jinnah drove home his point, hammering tight the lid over
that report’s coffin: “I know, the Nehru Report is my Honourable friend’s pet
child, but I am speaking dispassionately and I want him to realise, and the
sooner he realises it the better—that it is not acceptable to the Muslims.” 8

Jinnah decided to prove to Motilal, Jayakar, and the rest that he spoke.
In fact, for more than a “small minority,” but that was not an easy task. His
own faction of the Muslim League remained riddled with dissension. He re¬
convened the adjourned session of his League in Old Delhi on March 30,
11)29, and had met with some of his rivals “till the early hours of the morn¬
ing" th6 night before, trying to hammer out a new platform on which all of
Ilium could stand. The formula he produced, which came to be known as the
Fourteen Points of Mr. Jinnah, was opposed by Dr. Ansari, Tassaduq Ahmed
Klinn Shearwani, Dr. Mohammad Alam, and Dr. Syed Mahmud, all of whom
lnvored supporting the Nehru report. Maulana Mohammad Ali, however,
luliilly disenchanted with Gandhi, supported Jinnah “wholeheartedly” that
evening, “paying glowing tributes" to his “unique feat of statesmanship and,
in a lighter vein, calling him the ‘arch compromiser.’” 0 Jinnah was now try¬
ing to achieve with India's Muslims whul he had accomplished in 1916 with
the entire nutionulisl movement lie took the Agn Khan's "four principles,”
patched them together with tils Delhi Muslim propolis of 11)27, hammered
a lew nunc planks unto either cm nI. and hoped It would lloiil. an ink In which

106

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

107

all of them might survive the coming flood. Asaf AH and Dr. Saifuddin
Kitchlu joined, “believing it to be the best solution under the circumstances.”
Hut there was no enthusiasm for his makeshift craft, little chance that those
fourteen points 10 would survive the first rough squalls of any storm-ravaged
sea. Nor could his “coalition” hold together—even for one day.

Next morning, the League was to have met at the Rowshan Theatre near
Ajmer Gate in Old Delhi. Jinnah was to have opened the meeting at 10:30
a.m. but arrived late, doubtless exhausted after the long night of bickering.
Dr. Ansari’s supporters were in the front rows, and “Dr. Alam forcibly oc¬
cupied the presidential chair. He presented a resolution approving the
Nehru Report, and called upon Tassaduq Ahmad Khan Sherwani to second
it. The gathering, however, did not allow Dr. Alam to conduct the proceed¬
ings. Maulana Mohammad Ali demanded that he should vacate the chair.
As Dr. Alam refused, the audience rushed towards the platform and a gen¬
eral melee followed.” 11 Just then Jinnah arrived, and his appearance seemed
to have had some sobering effect; but gauging the futility of the enterprise
on which he had embarked, he immediately adjourned the session without
attempting to move his fourteen points. Had the audience awaiting him
been less hostile, he had intended to introduce his many-pointed platform
by admonishing them that if “the will of Muslim India” was to be “regis¬
tered, then it can only be accomplished by a united decision.” 12

No one was in a mood to listen. The Jinnah league had, in fact, ceased to
exist, its last few meetings adjourned either for lack of a quorum or because
ol wild behavior. The rest of “Muslim India” was either within Congress,
where Maulana Abul Kalam Azad remained, or impotently divided into
smaller and smaller “parties,” none of which attained more than provincial
status. Shaft’s league remained a force in the Punjab. Dr. Ansari convinced
Asaf Ali and Choudhry Khaliquzzaman to help him start a new Nationalist
Muslim party that was influential in the United Provinces. The Aga Khan
founded his own All-India Muslim Conference, a continuing seminar of con¬
servatives such as Sir Fazl-i Husain, Sir Shafa’at Ahmad Khan, and the
nawab of Chhatari. It was less than three months since the All-Parties Mus¬
lim Conference, and they were all running again, in different directions.
How realistic were Jinnah’s prospects of pulling them back together? “Ex¬
cept for a few personal friends, such as Malik Barkat Ali, Abdul Matin
Choudhry and Sir Mohammad Yakub,” his loyal helper in running the
League, Syed Shamsul Hasan, rightly noted that “others were reluctant to
work with the Quaid. His strict attachment to principles and independent
approach to problems were tin 1 main reasons which kept the others away
from

Jinnah had no place left to turn hat to Ids British friend-. The political

SIMLA (1929-30)

climate in London was rapidly liberalizing, and his old Islington Commis¬
sion colleague, Ramsay MacDonald, was about to become Westminster’s new
polestar. That May the Tory government fell, and Prime Minister Mac¬
Donald appointed his Labour colleague, William Wedgwood Benn (1877-
1961) (later Viscount Stansgate), secretary of state for India. Jinnah wasted
no time, traveling to Simla as soon as he learned of the Labour victory, for
“a long personal talk” with Lord Irwin. 14 The viceroy would be returning to
London in a few weeks to meet with his new chiefs at Whitehall and 10
Downing Street. Jinnah urged him to press for a strong declaration by the
Home government that dominion status was the goal of British policy for
India, suggesting a Round Table conference in London to draft such a
constitution.

But the “present system” was again coming under heavy siege. Gandhi
had returned to Congress’s center stage during its final hours in Calcutta, to
prepare to mount a new national Satyagraha campaign if Parliament failed
to implement the Nehru report within the calendar year 1929.

The Mahatma moved the Congress resolution accepting Motilal’s report
for one year only in order to avert a fight between the forces of Motilal and
Jawaharlal on the Congress floor over whether the national goal should be
dominion status or complete independence. “This Congress will adopt the
[Nehru Report] constitution in its entirety if it is accepted by the British
Parliament on or before December 31st, 1929,” that resolution stated, “but
in the event of its non-acceptance by that date or its earlier rejection, Con¬
gress will organise a non-violent non-co-operation by advising the country to
refuse taxation and in such other manner as is settled.” 15 Despite the sanctity
of that resolution’s mover, Subhas Bose proposed an amendment, calling for
"complete independence” without further delay. “What is the fundamental
cause of our political degradation?” cried Bose, the future Indian National
Army’s netaii [“leader”] and later twice Congress president. “It is the slave
mentality. If you want to overcome this slave mentality, you will do so only
by inspiring our countrymen with a desire for complete independence.” 16 lie
was cheered wildly. Young India was ready to shed its blood for freedom.
The darkest days of 1922 were by now forgotten.

On June 19, 1929, Jinnah wrote to Ramsay MacDonald, his old friend
.mil the new prime minister, “The present position is a very serious deadlock
iikI if allowed to continue it will, in my judgment, prove disastrous both to
11 a- interests of India and Great Britain.” 17 He then briefly outlined political
events of the preceding few years, especially since the appointment of the
Simon Commission and (lie futility of awaiting its report, since “So far as
India is concerned, we have done with it," Noting that "India has lost her
htllli in the word of (•rent Britain," Jinnah advised. "The first mid foremost

108

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

thing that I would ask you to consider is how best to restore that faith and
revive the confidence of India in the ‘bona fides’ of Great Britain.” 18 He
warned that “there is a section in India that has already declared in favour
of complete independence, and I may tell you without exaggeration that the
movement for independence is gaining ground, as it is supported by the
Indian National Congress.” To diminish the momentum of such a movement,
which Jinnah considered no less dangerous a threat to India’s security than
did the viceroy, he suggested as step one, a declaration “without delay” by
His Majesty’s government that “Great Britain is unequivocally pledged to
the policy of granting to India full responsible Government with Dominion
status. The effect of such a declaration will be very far-reaching and go a
great way to create a different atmosphere in the country.” As to practical
actions to implement such a declaration, he urged his friend to “invite repre¬
sentatives of India, who would be in a position to deliver the goods (because
completely unanimous opinion in India is not possible at present)” to Lon¬
don to meet with British officials till they could reach a constitutional “solu¬
tion which might carry, to use the words of the viceroy, the willing assent
of the political India.’ ” The proposals thus formulated could then be placed
before Parliament.

Lord Irwin reached London at the same time as Jinnah’s letter and went
directly to the India Office to meet with Wedgwood Benn, suggesting “the
two ideas of Round Table Conference and formal declaration of Dominion
Status as the goal of British policy for India.” 19 The new secretary of state
"was disposed to concur, but wished to be satisfied that we were not going
behind the backs of Simon and his Commission, who were then preparing
l heir report. I accordingly discussed both suggestions with Simon and was
much interested in his reaction to them,” Irwin recalled.

Somewhat to my surprise, he at first saw no objection at all to the
declaration about Dominion Status, but felt difficulty about the
Round Table Conference, principally on the ground that it would be
likely to affect adversely the status of the Commission’s report, when
it appeared, by making this only one among other papers that the
Conference would presumably have before it. ... A little later,
again to my surprise, his position changed on both points, and I have
always surmised that he was much influenced by Reading. Anyhow,
whatever the cause, he finally expressed himself satisfied with the
Round Table Conference, and fell in with the plan of an exchange of
letters with the Prime Minister, by which the Conference would ap¬
pear as an idea put by the Commission to the Government and readily
accepted by them, on the very proper ground of the need to lake
account of the Indian Stales us well us of British India. 1111

109

Simla ( 1929 - 30 )

So much for historic duplicity seeking to salvage Simon’s face. Actual credit
for both ideas belongs not to Irwin but to his new unacknowledged adviser,
Jinnah.

Soothing Simon’s ruffled feathers took time. It was not until August 14
that Ramsay MacDonald could reply in a “private letter.”

Dear Mr. Jinnah,

I am very sorry, but owing to a mistake [sic] your letter of the
19th of June was not put immediately before me. Let me say at once
how much I appreciate the spirit in which it was written and how
glad I would be to meet it in any way possible. The report of the
Simon Commission you need have no hesitation in assuming was
never intended to be anything more than advice given for the guid¬
ance of the Government and that the intention of the Government is,
as soon as that report is in its hands, to consider it in the light of all
the facts. The suggestions which you make in your letter will be pon¬
dered over with a desire to use them in every way that circumstances
will allow. But one thing I can say here,—because I have said it be¬
fore repeatedly and it still remains the intention of the Government,—
that we want India to enjoy Dominion status.

There will probably be announcements made very soon regarding
future proceedings. 21

Jinnah was very pleased and optimistically replied on September 7, “If you
carry out my suggestion with which I am glad to find that you are in ac¬
cord, it will open up a bright future for India and the name of Great Britain
will go down in history as one nation that was true to its declarations. 22

Lord Irwin wrote Jinnah from his “viceroy’s camp” the following month
announcing that

His Majesty’s Government are greatly concerned to find means by
which the broad question of British Indian constitutional advance
may be approached in co-operation with all who can speak authori¬
tatively for British Indian opinion . . . and I am authorised to say
that in the judgment of His Majesty’s Government it is implicit in the
Declaration of 1917 that the natural issue of India’s constitutional
progress as there contemplated is the attainment of Dominion Status.

In the lull realisation of this policy the States must ultimately have
I heir place . . . and Ill's Majesty’s Government accordingly propose
. . . to invite represent olives of different interests in British India and
ol the Indian Slates to meet them, separately or together as circum¬
stances may demand, in regard both to British India and all-India

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

problems. They hope thus to be able to submit eventually to Parlia¬
ment proposals commanding a wide measure of general assent. 23

The first steps that would lead to three major Round Table conferences
in London were thus taken, and Jinnah was not only the prime minister’s
personal friend and adviser in initiating that complex process, but had now
become the viceroy’s key emissary as well.

Irwin’s historic statement appeared on the front page of every major In¬
dian newspaper on November 1, 1929. Jinnah was in Bombay that day and
met with eighteen others in Sir Chimanlal Setalvad’s chambers to issue a
joint public statement in response to Irwin’s announcement, welcomed as a

fundamental change of procedure whereby the representatives of
India will be invited to meet His Majesty’s Government in conference
for the purpose of arriving at the greatest possible measure of agree¬
ment regarding the proposals to be submitted to Parliament for the
attainment of Dominion Status by India and thereby reaching a solu¬
tion which might carry the willing assent of political India. 24

Sarojini Naidu, Bhulabhai Desai, Sir Homi P. Mody, Chagla, Kanji Dwar-
kadas, and his brother were among those who signed that statement. In New
Delhi, at a meeting chaired by Motilal Nehru, including thirty leaders of
many parties other than Congress, a “policy of general conciliation” was
called for, together with the grant of “general amnesty” for political prison¬
ers, and the “predominant representation” of the Indian National Congress
at the forthcoming Round Table conference. This leaders’ Manifesto, as it
soon came to be called, further insisted that “the [Round Table] Conference
Is to meet not to discuss when Dominion Status is to be established but to
frame a scheme of Dominion Constitution for India.”

No sooner did Jawaharlal Nehru sign that Manifesto than he regretted
doing so, however, instead of walking out with Subhas Bose and his com¬
rades. Feeling himself “an interloper,” Jawaharlal now wanted to “resign”
from the presidentship of Congress, which he had just accepted. Gandhi
responded to Jawaharlal’s anxious ambivalence by insisting: “You must not
resign ... it will affect the national cause. There is no hurry and no prin¬
ciple at stake. About the crown, no one else can wear it. It never was to be
a crown of roses. Let it be all thorns now.” 25 Nehru did not, in fact, resign,
but Iris emotional threat of resignation stiffened both Gandhi and Motilal in
I heir resolve to stand by the leaders’ manifesto as the most they would be
willing to do by way ol "accommodating" the viceroy and Mis Majesty’s gov¬
ernment. Irwin, however, had secured as much promise ol change as Ramsay
MacDonald was prepared to oiler, Jinnah, therefore, found himself in the

Simla (1929-30) 111

unenviable, yet not unfamiliar position, of having to try to bridge the gap
remaining between both sides.

Jinnah, Gandhi, Motilal Nehru, Sapru, and Patel met with Irwin at the
viceroy’s house in New Delhi at 4:30 p.m. on December 23, 1929. Irwin had
just returned from his viceregal tour that morning, and, as his train ap¬
proached Delhi station, a bomb exploded under one of its carriages. Fortu¬
nately, neither the viceroy nor his escort was injured. Gandhi was first to
speak that afternoon, expressing “the horror he and those who accompanied
him felt at the attempt on His Excellency’s train,” offering “congratulations
on Their Excellencies’ escape.” 26 He then asked Lord Irwin whether the
interpretation of his announcement published in the Congress leaders’ mani¬
festo (“The [Round Table] Conference is to meet not to discuss when Do¬
minion Status is to be established but to frame a scheme of Dominion Con¬
stitution for India.”) was accurate. Gandhi explained that “unless agreement
was reached on this point he felt it fruitless to proceed to any other ques¬
tions.” Irwin insisted “he thought that the wording of his announcement
made the position plain.” The object of the conference “was to thresh out
the problems which arose out of His Majesty’s Government’s definite declara¬
tion of policy.” He then quickly added that here at last was a chance “of
doing something big and the danger of losing a great opportunity.” It “was
obviously impossible to lay it down that the Conference was to draft any
particular Constitution,” Irwin argued, but “it would have the fullest oppor¬
tunity to discuss any proposals put before it. He emphasized that the Confer¬
ence would be absolutely free. . . . There would be no closure to the freest
discussion; the Conference would not, he took it, proceed to definite voting,
but would rather follow the lines of the Imperial Conference, a record being
kept of the general sense of the members.”

Mr. Gandhi felt that the Imperial Conference was on a different foot¬
ing. There all the parties to the discussions were more or less of one
mind. At the Indian Conference this would not be so. However much
they argued they could not reach a policy which would be acceptable
to all. 27

It was a remarkably prophetic conclusion, coming as it did almost eigh¬
teen years prior to partition and anticipating hundreds of thousands of man¬
hours wasted on conferences and in cabinets, and millions of futile words,
whether printed on parchment or paper. Gandhi admitted there could be no
itol.mil voting at the conference; but lie argued that unless the establishment
of dominion stains could bo "presumed us an immediate result of the Con-
Inroneo,” he could not take' purl In II. lie demanded "complete freedom at

112 JINN AH OF PAKISTAN

once” and said India was capable of “solving her own problem of defence.”
Motilal agreed, adding that “British people exaggerated the difficulties in
the way of Dominion Status for India. There was no difficulty about having
full Dominion Status at once, though he did not mean that the Indian form
of it would necessarily be exactly the same as any particular form of Do¬
minion Status already in existence.” 28

Lord Irwin thought that “unreasonable” and looked to Jinnah and Sapru
at this point for more effective support. Both “reasoned at some length with
Mr. Gandhi and Pundit Motilal Nehru. They argued that those who went to
the Conference would be at liberty to propose Dominion Status. Supposing
from the opposite side somebody pointed out the difficulties, that would at
least narrow the issues, and the true function of the Conference would be
to discuss the difficulties in the way of immediate conferment of full Domin¬
ion Status and to argue about safeguards.” 29 But Gandhi and Motilal re¬
nin i nod true to their promise to Jawaharlal and others who had signed the
Delhi manifesto, refusing to attend another conference to “argue” about
issues “unacceptable” to all the parties with their divergent perspectives.

Pundit Motilal Nehru gave it as his opinion that no Indian would be
satisfied with less than Dominion Status. He saw no difficulties in the
way himself. But if there were any, they could be solved after the
central point was admitted; India could solve them for herself. The
whole crux was the transference of power from Great Britain to
India. 30

The bitterness and cold inflexibility later noted by those who were to
meet with Jinnah emerged in the wake of this aborted conference more than
as the aftermath of Ruttie’s death. Once again he had permitted his hopes
to take wing, for what he had “arranged,” after all, was no negligible affair,
lie had extracted from Ramsay MacDonald and Lord Irwin no ordinary
promise. Within five years, perhaps India could have taken her place beside
< .'aimda and Australia as an independent dominion helping “the progress of

I lie world at large,” as Jinnah put it to the prime minister, whom he had also
assured "a great success” in response to his announcement. And he had ac-

I I mlly brought them all into the same room, though that alone had taken
almost two months of “negotiating.” Then to watch everything disintegrate
before I be stone wall erected by Gandhi and Motilal as spokesmen for Ja-
waharlal and Iris friends—how else could it leave Jinnah but bitter? Tired.
Frustrated. Furious. Alone and bitter, lie understood precisely what Motilal
meant when lie said that he saw no difficulties in the way to winning do¬
minion slain,s. Gandhi bud been more forthright, insisting there was, in fact,
"tint lack of unity" and (lint did present a problem. Motilal. however, was

SIMLA (1929-30) 113

not even prepared to concede that a “Muslim problem” existed, even as his
son would still refuse to admit it eight years later. Jinnah knew how much
they resented him. His mere presence in so select a group, though he had
been the most instrumental in bringing it together, must have been singu¬
larly offensive to Motilal, for Jinnah was the living reminder to him of why
the “constitution” he had labored so hard to write last year was about to
pass into the trash bin of history. Nor could Jinnah have helped feeling as
the sun set upon that long and weary afternoon that he was, at heart, closer
to Lord Irwin than to Motilal or the Mahatma seated beside him. He had
no Muslim League left to meet with this year. Nor would the ocean now
dividing him from Congress ever be bridged again.

Congress met that week in Lahore. The “complete independence” (puma
sioaraj ) resolution passed at this Congress marked a radical departure for
the Indian nationalist movement, now in its forty-fourth year. This would be
the last annual session of Congress held during the Christmas holiday, Presi¬
dent Jawaharlal Nehru announced, “Inasmuch as the Congress is intended
to be representative of the poor masses, and inasmuch as the holding of the
Congress at the end of December involves very considerable expense to the
poor people in providing for extra clothing for themselves and is otherwise
inconvenient to them.” The revolutionary changes initiated by Gandhi a
decade earlier had matured to the point where Congress and its younger
generation of leadership wanted no longer to be tied in any way to the
British Empire, its habits, institutions, traditions, or timetable. Sunday, Jan¬
uary 26,1930, was proclaimed Puma Swaraj Day by the Working Committee
of Congress, and a resolution stating that “We believe . . . that India must
sever the British connection and attain Purna Swaraj or Complete Indepen¬
dence” 31 was posted and read out to millions across the subcontinent.

From his lofty, lonely Malabar Hill home, Jinnah watched the rising of
this new revolutionary tide lash against official indifference and repression,
massed like mighty breakwaters athwart every gateway to India. The irre¬
sistible force of those waves would keep shattering themselves against these
immovable objects till the tide turned back again. Imperceptibly, the rocks
would erode or shift, some would settle and others sink. With the next high
tide more of the ocean would break through, and still more with the tide
after. Jinnah was wearied, bored by the futility of it all. Was it perhaps time
lor him to abandon India altogether, for what really kept him there? He
could practice law just as easily in London, confining himself to appeals
before (lie Privy Council, if he liked. There were enough such briefs in his
reach, and they would prove just as rewarding—and far less exhausting.

Jimmli blamed Gandhi “lor this sudden outburst of political hysteria,” as
no publicly clmi'iielrrlzed the new Congress program . 112 Sapru agreed, writ-

114

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

ing Jinnah on January 5, 1930, “I have today read your interview in the
Press. I entirely agree with you. The Congress has gone mad, but the worst
of it is that in its madness it is going to involve the country in disaster.” 33
Sir Tej was ready to start afresh, enthusiastically adding: “We must act and
act together and with a determination that we will solve our differences. I
have no doubt that on this occasion you can be of the greatest possible use
to the country.” He wanted to organize another all-parties conference and
assured Jinnah, “I personally think that we should not find it difficult to
bring about a settlement of the Hindu Mohamedan question. But without
flattering you I do say that it is impossible to get a settlement effected with¬
out your cooperation and guidance.” Jinnah agreed to give it a try, as did
Shafi and Mahmudabad. Hindu Mahasabha leaders were also willing to join
such a conference, after much persuading and cajoling by Sapru. Jinnah
selected most of the Muslim representatives to the conference in Delhi that
met on February 26, 1930. More than fifty delegates were invited, including
leading Liberals, Mahasabhites, Christians, Anglo-Indians, and Madras Jus¬
tice party “Untouchables” as well as Muslim leaguers. Early in February
Jinnah met with Madan Mohan Malaviya, the Hindu Mahasabha’s leader in
the assembly, to discuss communal problems and felt “the atmosphere has
improved” for possible settlement. Yet nothing had really changed since
February 1928, except that Congress was not in attendance at the latest
futile “all-parties” conference.

Jinnah had not expected much of Sapru’s conference; rather he focused
his own attention on the London arena and pressed Irwin to announce an
opening date of the Round Table conference, urging the viceroy to send out
official invitations.

The Mahatma had almost completed his heroic march from Sabarmati
to the sea where he then symbolically made salt in open violation of the
British salt monopoly, launching a new nationwide Satyagraha. Jinnah
feared that the rising tides of Satyagraha and British repression would serve
only to destroy the fragile constitutional craft he had launched, even before
it could clear Bombay’s harbor. Why would Irwin not commit himself to a
date? His legal instinct sensed the viceroy was trying to back away from
signing the contract they had orally agreed upon. Called back to Sukkar for
the Pir Pagaro appeal, Jinnah wrote from the circuit house there to Lord
Irwin on April 26. Two weeks later Irwin replied, reporting that the Round
Table conference was set to start in October, asking what Jinnah thought of
holding the Simla assembly session in July instead of the usual September.
Jinnah felt “no useful purpose will be served” with such a session at all.
Anyway, most of the assembly’s elected members had resigned in response
to Congress’s boycott call. But, ho wrote Irwin from Sind, "I think I shall

Simla (1929-30) 115

get back to Bombay about the end of this month, and if it would suit you,
I can run up to Simla for a few days in the first week of June.” 34

Gandhi’s march, from his ashram in Ahmedabad 240 miles south to
Dandi on the sea, had started March 12 and ended April 5, with the eyes of
the world focused upon this latter-day Moses leading his “children of India”
out of bondage. April 6 was the date set by Gandhi for the “simultaneous
beginning” of the nationwide Satyagraha, when hundreds of thousands of
Indians broke the government’s salt tax monopoly law by “stealing” natural
salt for themselves from India’s thousands of miles of coastline. “There is no
alternative but for us to do something about our troubles and sufferings and
hence we have thought of this salt tax,” Mahatma Gandhi said, speaking at
Surat on April 1. Gandhi was arrested on May 5 and taken to Poona’s Yera-
vda prison, which he renamed “palace” and “mandir” (“temple”) in his
letters.

Less than two weeks after entering prison, the Mahatma wrote to Lord
Irwin, addressing him as “Dear Friend,” and began to negotiate with him,
reiterating the “eleven points” 35 he had communicated to Ramsay Mac¬
Donald in January, which he deemed essential prerequisites to calling off
his “civil disobedience” campaign before it had started. The first of these
was “Total prohibition,” the fourth called for “Abolition of the Salt Tax”;
others demanded “Reduction of Land Revenue at least by 50 per cent and
making it subject to Legislative control,” “Reduction of Military expenditure
at least by 50 per cent to begin with,” “Reduction of salaries of the highest
grade services by half or less,” “Protective tariff on foreign cloth,” amnesty
for political prisoners, abolition of the Criminal Intelligence Division of
police, “or its popular control,” and the issuance of “licenses to use fire-arms
for self-defense, subject to popular control.” In a prison interview he granted,
Gandhi insisted:

I have taken what has been called a mad risk. But it is a justifiable
risk. No great end has been achieved without incurring danger ... I
am an optimist. In forty years of struggle I have frequently been told
I was attempting the impossible, but invariably I proved the con¬
trary.? 6

Soon after that interview appeared in the press, Sapru and Jayakar
launched their “peace mission” with the viceroy’s private approval. Jinnah
hoped Irwin was not going “soft” on the eve of the Round Table conference
he now viewed as his only ray of political light, guarding it with almost
proprietary jealousy. ”1 am very anxious that the names of the representa¬
tive's who are going to be invited to the Conference should not he pub¬
lished till the end of August or the beginning of September mid I may re-

116

117

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

quest you to let me see the list of the invitees before you finally decide upon
the names, so that I may be in a position to make such suggestions as it may
strike me. Of course it will be for you ultimately to decide who should be
invited. This can be done while I am at Simla.” 37 The viceroy had insisted
on having his assembly meet in Simla that July despite Jinnah’s advice to
the contrary. Jinnah’s relationship with Irwin thus became increasingly inti¬
mate but did not always run smoothly. Both gaunt, elegant, and punctilious,
these two men were so alike they must have found one another at once
attractive and exasperating.

Sapru and Jayakar came to the Yeravda prison to meet with Gandhi on
July 23-24, and the Mahatma wrote a “note” for hand delivery by the vice¬
roy's emissaries to Motilal and Jawaharlal in Naini prison, stating that his

personal position is that if the Round Table Conference is restricted to
a discussion of safeguards that may be necessary in connection with
full Self-Government during the period of transition, I should have no
objection, it being understood that the question of independence
should not be ruled out if anybody raises it. I should be satisfied be¬
fore I could endorse the idea of the Congress attending the Confer¬
ence about its whole composition. 38

(hmdhi. sent a covering letter to Motilal on the same day, adding, “My posi¬
tion is essentially awkward. . . . But after all, Jawaharlal’s must be the final
voice. You and I can only give our advice to him.” 39 Then Sapru and Jayakar
met with both Nehrus in Naini on July 27-28. Motilal’s health had deterio¬
rated since his incarceration in June; he ran a high fever during the long
interviews with the two peace missionaries. The elder Nehru did not live
another year.

On July 28 Irwin wrote Jinnah to inform him of the Labour government’s
decision to invite members of London’s Liberal and Conservative opposition
parties to the Round Table. Jinnah wrote him in reply, stressing, “May I
once more urge you not to forget the suggestion I made in the course of our
conversation at Simla that Your Excellency should do your utmost to ar¬
range and be present in London at the time of the Conference? I am more
anxious and more convinced than ever that it is absolutely essential to the
success of the Conference.” 40 Jinnah also pressed in this letter for the release
ol more prisoners, especially Khan Abdul Gaffoor (Ghaffar) Khan, one of
Lis two recommended delegates to the conference from the North-West
I'Von Her Province, though as Jinnah noted, he “has no or very little knowl¬
edge of English language." That "Lion of the Frontier” was, however, the
most popular leader of the I’allams and would become a staunch Congress
idly, soon to be ladled us the "Frontier (landhl,’ 1

Simla (1929-30)

Sapru returned to Naini prison on August 8 to inform the Nehrus that
Lord Irwin had “no objection” to sending them to Poona to meet with
Gandhi in Yeravda. Two days later a special train rushed them to Maha¬
rashtra, and from August 13-15 Congress’s three leaders met with Sapru
and Jayakar inside the Mahatma’s “palace temple” cell. Several other mem¬
bers of the Congress party’s working committee, including Vallabhbhai
Patel and Sarojini Naidu, joined them. On August 15 the Congress prisoners
wrote to Sapru and Jayakar, concluding that “the time is not yet ripe for
securing a settlement honourabe for our country.” 41

Jinnah’s anxiety over the fate of his conference mounted as he followed
news reports of the Yeravda prison “all-parties” conference, from which he
and the Muslim League by his own choice were excluded. He wrote again
to Irwin on August 19 what was a most remarkable letter not only for the
impatience and irascibility bordering on petulance it revealed, but because
it reflected what was actually a reversal of roles, with Jinnah urging the vice¬
roy to be more “firm and definite” in his dealings with Indian nationalists. 42

Jinnah had taken upon himself, as it were, the full burdens of viceroy
and secretary of state, internalizing those roles in what he truly believed to
be the best interests, not only of the Muslim minority, but of the entire
population of India, Great Britain, and, indeed, the world. He considered
Gandhi quite mentally unbalanced by now, believed Jawaharlal Nehru a
dangerous young radical, whose judgment could not be trusted, and knew
that Motilal’s fever was higher since the Yeravda “summit.” He sensed that
the older Nehru’s will had fallen hostage to his son’s more powerful resolve
to march toward “complete independence.” Isolated, cut off from the “peace
talks” entirely, Jinnah saw no ray of hope left in India, only in the distant
glow of London’s Round Table conference, the thoughts of which sus¬
tained him.

Lord Irwin wrote to Sapru and Jayakar from his viceregal lodge in Simla
on August 28:

I fear as you will no doubt recognize that the task you had voluntarily
undertaken has not been assisted by the letter you have received from
the Congress leaders. In view both of the general tone by which that
letter is inspired and of its contents, as also of its blank refusal to
recognize the grave injury to which the country has been subjected by
the Congress policy, not the least in the economic field, I do not think
any useful purpose would be served by my attempting to deal in de¬
tail with the suggestions there made and I must frankly say I regard
discussion on the basis of the proposals contained in the letter as im¬
possible. I hope if you desire to see the Congress leaders again you
will malm this plain/ 1 ' 1

118

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

So ended Round One of the peace talks. Irwin wrote to notify Jinnah of his
linn response on September 1. Jinnah’s reply a week later continued to
sound like a communication from a higher official to his subordinate: “I am
in receipt of yours of the 1st September, 1930 and I thank you very much
lor it. This is just to inform you that I am going to Sind on a professional
engagement tonight and shall return to Bombay on the 18th or 19th. I have
now booked my passage for the 4th October in view of the fact that the
(.’(inference does not meet till the middle of November. More when I
return .” 44

I lo had much to arrange in what was to be his last full month in India
lor several years. Almost thirty-five years had gone by since his return from
I .ondon to make Bombay his home. The would-be thespian had reached
stardom as Bombay’s most successful barrister, a viceroy’s alter ego, and the
prime minister’s friend. It was time to go back then to London—not to retire
exactly, but to settle in and to enjoy an atmosphere less frenzied, less peril¬
ous than India’s had become. Ever guarded and secretive about his private
life, Jinnah made no pronouncement of future plans on the eve of his de¬
parture. Those who knew him assumed, of course, that he was merely pack¬
ing In preparation for the Round Table conference. But he was planning his
next step up the ladder of the law, to transfer his practice entirely to appeals
before) London’s Privy Council, the highest court in the empire. In mid-
August he had invited Dr. Muhammad Iqbal (1877-1938) to preside over
llie Muslim League’s annual session, which he would not himself attend. He
liad lost almost as much faith in his Muslim colleagues as in the Hindus.
I'licy could agree on virtually nothing. Jinnah was fed up with petty con¬
flicts and nights of endless argument. The Round Table would serve as the
setting for his final act on British India’s political stage. And should the
curtain there descend on a flop, at least that would leave him in London.

London

( 1930 - 33 )

Jinnah had sailed aboard the P.&O. Viceroy of India, leaving Bombay on
October 4, 1930. As the first stroke of noon reverberated from Big Ben on
November 12,1930, King Emperor George V, standing before his throne in
the Royal Gallery of the House of Lords, inaugurated the first Round Table
conference on India, with his message being broadcast throughout the world
by wireless. Rays of morning sun filtered through the high stained-glass win¬
dows of that cathedrallike hall filled with the fifty-eight well-dressed dele¬
gates from British India, among whom stood Jinnah, the Aga Khan, Sapru,
Jayakar, and sixteen “representatives” of the Indian states, including Patiala
and Baroda, Bhopal, and Alwar in his vivid green turban, plus a phalanx of
officials led by Prime Minister MacDonald, Mr. Benn, and Lord Sankey, the
chancellor of the lords. Ex-viceroys Hardinge and Reading were there, as
were the prime ministers of most dominions of the British Commonwealth,
all of whom remained standing during His Majesty’s brief address. King
George departed as soon as he concluded his speech. The maharaja of
Patiala, the chancellor of the Chamber of Princes, then proposed that Prime
Minister MacDonald take the chair of the conference, and the Aga Khan
seconded the motion, which was carried by acclamation. Liberal V. S. Srina-
vusa Sastri spoke first for the British Indian delegation. Then Jinnah, as
spokesman for the sixteen Muslim delegates, rose, introducing what the
Times reported as “the first suggestion of controversy,” “I am glad, Mr.
President [MacDonald], that you referred to the fact that ‘the declarations
made by British sovereigns and statesmen from time to time that Great
Britain's work in India was to prepare her for self-government have been
plain.’ . . But I must emphasize (lull India now expects translation and

liilllliiiciit of these declarations Into action.'

! JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

This was a stage more glorious than any he had ever spoken from before,
llu' culmination, not simply of a year-and-a-half’s lobbying and labor from
hull a world away, but of his current political career. To utter a few adula¬
tory platitudes as timorous Sastri had done, to say nothing of substance,
nothing momentous or historic, was unthinkable for Jinnah. Emphasizing as
lie already had the need for “action” was electrifying enough for most of
I lie m, more than any of the princes who had preceded him dared, but Jinnah
had a still more powerful bombshell to drop in that hallowed hall. “In con¬
clusion,” he said, “I must express my pleasure at the presence of the Do¬
minion Prime Ministers and representatives. I am glad that they are here to
witness the birth of a new Dominion of India which would be ready to
march along with them within the British Commonwealth of Nations.” Did
imy of those who heard him dream it would, in fact, be Jinnah’s destiny to
lend another as yet unborn dominion into that commonwealth?

(lertainly not Sir Malcolm Hailey, ex-governor of the Punjab as well as
<>l I lie United Provinces, the government of India’s senior consultative official
nl I lie conference.

"As a whole the Moslems seem up to the present to be fairly well com¬
bined,” Hailey reported to Lord Irwin from Whitehall. “The Aga Khan
docs not give them a lead, but professes himself willing to follow the
majority. Jinnah is of course a good deal mistrusted; he did not at the
opening of the Conference say what his party had agreed, and they
arc a little sore in consequence. He declined to give the Conference
Secretariat a copy of his speech in advance as all the others had done.

I hit then Jinnah of course was always the perfect little bounder and
as slippery as the eels which his forefathers purveyed in Bombay
market.” 2

The conference reconvened in St. James’s Palace on the afternoon of
Monday, November 17. The night before, Jinnah, Shafi, and the Aga Khan
Imd mot with Sapru, Setalvad, Jayakar, and Dr. B. S. Moonje, Nagpur’s
president of the Hindu Mahasabha, in the nawab of Bhopal’s London resi¬
dence on Upper Brook Street. 3 They had achieved “a surface harmony,” as
I lie Aga Khan put it, “but underneath there were deep and difficult rifts of
sentiment and of outlook whose effect was bound to be felt. 4 Nothing had
changed. Jinnah and most of the Muslims wanted all of his fourteen points,
only half of which Sapru and Setalvad were ready to concede, and none of
which Jayakar or Moonje would fully accept.

As Jinnah had feared, the conference proved much too large. There was
Hum only for three addresses to the first plenary session, six on the next day,
and lour on the third, Those speeches were so prolix, redundant, and rhe¬
torical lluil Inline nIiiIciiiciiIs were strictly llmllcd by the clmh lo no more

London (1930-33) 121

than ten minutes, for it soon became obvious to everyone that precious
time was being frittered away listening to oft-repeated arguments, while the
magic moment of world interest and attention was being wasted. Virtually
all the Indian speeches, however, echoed a single theme—the “whole future”
was at stake. “The time has long since passed by when India could be told
to hold its soul in patience,” 5 as Sapru put it. And speaking for the princes,
the gaekwar of Baroda was even more forthright. Even Sir Muhammad
Shafi warned against further “tardy measures.” But Lord Peel (1867-
1937), former secretary of state for India under Baldwin’s Tory government
from 1922-24, who led the Conservative party’s delegation, ignored all the
appeals, urgent, impassioned, and quite accurate though they proved to be,
arguing for implementation of the timid Simon Commission proposals.

Jinnah spoke for only ten minutes on November 20 but addressed him¬
self directly to Lord Peel, insisting that the Simon Commission’s Report
was “dead.” He spelled out in his brief address, moreover, what was later to
become his strategy for achieving Pakistan. Evelyn Wrench subsequently
reported that when he asked Jinnah “when he first got the vision of Pakistan
... he told me it was in 1930,” 6 but there is no evidence that he seriously
contemplated leading the struggle toward its attainment as yet. Two points
he made at the Round Table in November 1930, however, offer important
insights into his strategic thinking on the subject. “. . . I have no hesitation
in conceding this proposition—that you [Great Britain] have a great interest
in India, both commercial and political, and therefore you are a party, if I
may say so, gravely interested in the future constitution of India. But . . .
I want you equally to concede that we have a greater and far more vital
interest than you have, because you have the financial or commercial in¬
terest and the political interest, but to us it is all in all.” And as to the ques¬
tion of “parties,” Jinnah stated that “. . . there are four main parties sitting
round the table now. There are the British party, the Indian princes, the
Hindus and the Muslims.” 7

Jinnah had long recognized a wide range of Muslim special interests,
needs, and demands, but this was a new departure and became a major
theme of his Pakistan strategy, that is, that the Muslims were a “party,” a
distinct bloc, separate from, if not actually equal to, the Hindus, the princes,
and the British. His second point was at least as important but remained
still a veiled warning, a threat construed by most who heard it as nothing
more than Jinnah’s “language of the bargainer,” the sort of thing a scion of
“cel-purveyors" might lightly say. I lo warned that unless this Round Table
negotiated a “.settlement” lo "satisfy the aspirations of India” then the
seventy million Muslims and all others who laid "kept aloof” might be
templed to "join" llio "non co-operation movement."

122 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

J innah then stated “the cardinal principle,” which he hoped British mem¬
bers of the conference would keep uppermost in mind, that “India wants
to be mistress in her own house; and I cannot conceive of any constitution
that you may frame which will not transfer responsibility in the Central
Government to a Cabinet responsible to the Legislature.” 8 It was, he
argued, the least that would now suffice to satisfy political leaders through¬
out the subcontinent, those who came to London, as well as those who
had remained in British India’s crowded prison cells. He reminded Mac¬
Donald that two years earlier, at a Labour conference, the future prime
minister had said, “I hope that within a period of months, rather than years,
I hero will be a new Dominion added to the Commonwealth of our nations,
a Dominion of another race, a Dominion that will find self-respect as an
equal within the Commonwealth—I refer to India.” Trenchantly, he added,
"Since 1928 two years have passed.” 9

J innah was assigned to the federal structure subcommittee chaired by
I i<)rd Sunkey, before which he and Shafi both “made it clear” that “no con¬
stitution would work unless it embodied provisions which gave a sense of
security to the Muslims and other minorities.” 10 Hailey reported to Irwin
alter the failure of every London attempt at resolving the Hindu-Muslim
conflict, on December 4, 9, and 15. The last of these meetings was at the
prime minister’s country house, Chequers, to which “Hindus and Muslims
are being conveyed in motor-buses,” wrote Hailey on the 13th. “I had a long
lulls with some of them last night. ... So far as one can prophesy, the in¬
dications are that the Muslims will give up separate electorates but will
gel u bare majority in the Punjab and Bengal and weightage in the other
Provinces.” 11 Hailey’s predictions proved premature. “The Muslims, acting
on renewed pressure from India, now refuse to go back on their insistence
on separate electorates and demand not only these but all the terms which
l bey have included in their fourteen points. The Hindus, led by Moonje,
went back on their agreement to concede the fourteen points. There was,
In fact, a complete deadlock.” 12 Ramsay MacDonald was so depressed by

I lie Chequers fiasco that he decided to turn to Lord Willingdon (1866—
HHI), then governor-general of Canada, for help in augmenting a new
lough line toward India. Irwin’s term as viceroy expired in April 1931, and
on December 23, 1930, Britain’s prime minister wrote to Canada’s prime
minister, Richard Bennett, asking him to let go of his governor-general,
explaining: "A solution of this problem is essential to the future government
nl India, and il must now be sought in India itself. I know no man who can
conduct these negotiations bettor than Willingdon.” 18

Jiniiiil i‘n b6to noire us governor of Bombay during World War 1 would

II it in return to lake the helm of India's government at New Delhi from

London (1930-33) 123

1931-36. It was not entirely coincidental perhaps that for most of Lord
Willingdon’s term as viceroy, Jinnah remained out of India, though by then
he more closely resembled the formidable marquis in temperament as well
as appearance than he did that radical young nationalist leader of the 1918
anti-Willingdon protest. Willingdon’s feelings toward Jinnah sufficed to
keep the latter off the joint committee appointed to fashion final Round
Table conference proposals into a new government of India bill for Parlia¬
ment. Jinnah opted to live in London, however, despite Willingdon’s pres¬
ence in India (a “target” who must have tempted him sorely at times to
return to the legislative assembly), as much as because of it. Jinnah did not
hesitate to return, periodically, for visits to Simla, Delhi, and Bombay dur¬
ing his half decade of “permanent” residence in London.

Before Ramsay MacDonald’s admission of failure to resolve the com¬
munal problem could reach Canada, however, a new proposal of the Muslim
position was being articulated at a poorly attended meeting of the Muslim
League in Allahabad, on December 29, 1930. That meeting was presided
over by Dr. Muhammad Iqbal (1877-1938), a mystic Urdu poet-philoso¬
pher of the Punjab. Though a barrister of Lincoln’s Inn, educated in Heidel¬
berg and Munich University, and a graduate of Trinity College, Cambridge,
Allama (“Islamic Scholar”) Iqbal remained deeply religious throughout his
turbulent life. He joined the Muslim League’s British committee when it
was first started in London in 1908, served as secretary of Shafi’s league, and
was a leading force in the Punjab’s legislative council from 1926-30. In
Allahabad Iqbal was first to articulate the two-nation theory of irreconcil¬
able Hindu-Muslim difference. He was not calling for complete national
separation as yet but insisted that “The principle of European democracy
cannot be applied to India without recognizing the fact of communal
groups. The Muslim demand for the creation of a Muslim India within
India is, therefore, perfectly justified.” He then went further than any pre¬
vious president of the league had ever gone, spelling out his vision of the
future “final destiny” of the Muslim community of his own Punjab and its
neighboring provinces. “I would like to see the Punjab, the North-West
Frontier Province, Sind and Baluchistan amalgamated into a single State.
Self-government within the British Empire, or without the British Empire,
llie formation of a consolidated North-West Indian Muslim State appears
to me to be the final destiny of the Muslims, at least of North-West India.” 14
Iqbal did “not feel optimistic” about the Round Table conference and, in
I In’ concluding section of his Allahabad speech, criticized Ramsay Mac¬
Donald for refusing "to see that the problem of India is international.”

On January M, 1931, llie Aga khan, Jinnah, and Shafi called on Ramsay
MacDonald to warn him I hut "unless Ids statement of the Government's

124 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

policy is accompanied by an announcement of satisfactory safeguards for
•lie communities, most of the Moslem delegates will dissociate themselves
from the findings of the Conference.” 15 Kanji Dwarkadas reported that
Ramsay MacDonald tried, by this time, to win greater cooperation from
Jinnah during the conference by “casually” remarking to him in “the course
of conversation” that

in view of the forthcoming changes in India the British Government
would be looking for distinguished Indians for appointment as Pro¬
vincial Governors. The obvious implication of this suggestion was that
"Jinnah would have an excellent chance if he proved to be a good
boy.” Jinnah at once made it clear to Ramsay MacDonald that his
services were not available for sale and firmly rejected the offer which
he believed was nothing less than “an attempt to bribe him.” 16

|lmiahs legal acuity proved, moreover, at least as important a factor by now
ns 1 1 is "unpurchasability” in helping account for the leadership he attained
over I lie Muslim deputation in London and later over all of Muslim India.
Al I lie end of the first Round Table conference,

The Muslim delegation was anxious to learn beforehand what safe¬
guards were to be incorporated for the protection of minorities. . . .

A letter was received by the Aga Khan and the delegation met im¬
mediately in his room. Jinnah was delayed and the letter was dis¬
cussed and had been approved of when Mr. Jinnah arrived. He went
11>rough it and pointed out the flaw where none seemed to exist—a
fluw that would have meant the annulment of most of what had been
conceded. All were amazed. The result: Muslims secured for their
nation .12 out of the 14 points. 17

In mid-January, on the eve of the concluding plenary session of the con¬
ference, the Muslims were therefore united in presenting their “last offer”
to I lie minorities subcommittee, one proposing Hindu-Sikh and Muslim
pti'hy for Punjab and Hindu-Muslim parity for Bengal, but both reasonable
suggestions tailed to win Punjabi Sikh or Bengali Hindu approval. Signifi-
e.mllv, neither Jinnah, Shafi, nor the Aga Khan spoke at the concluding
plenary session, when most other delegates, including Shaft’s lovely daugh-
•er, Begum Shall Nawaz, delivered congratulatory speeches of thanks to the
I a line minister and their British hosts, optimistically hailing the work of
the conlcrence as marking “the dawn of a new era.” 18 Not so for Jinnah. The
hope I hat had Imoyed his spirits on arrival at Westminster two months
earlier had dissolved in the acid of fermenting misgivings as to the possi¬
bility ol ever settling the I lliidu Muslim conflict, lie had sent for Fatima
mid his daughter Dina In live with him in London mid began looking for a

London (1930-33) 125

home for the three of them. He was ready to leave the League to Iqbal and
his Punjabi friends. Jinnah’s only remaining political ambition was to enter
Parliament—through whichever party would have him. Perhaps he thought
he could still be of service to Muslim India from there, or if not—the Privy
Council remained, possibly even its Bench, as the crowning achievement
of his career. And the news he read and received from India served only
to confirm the wisdom of his withdrawal from that scene of chaos com¬
pounded.

Jinnah applied to London’s Inner Temple to let chambers that had just
fallen vacant within its walls, The Temple’s treasurer was none other than
Sir John Simon, who wrote to assure a mutual barrister friend Bhugwandin
Dube that his Inn would “be very glad to have so distinguished a man
within our own boundaries. . . . He need not trouble about recommenda¬
tions, as, of course, I know all about him, but I think there is, according to
our ordinary rule, a surety in connection with the actual lease.” 19 Jinnah
secured his chambers in King’s Bench Walk before the winter was over. It
would take several more months of estate hunting to locate the appropriate
house, “a three-storied villa, built in the confused style of the 1880’s, with
many rooms and gables, and a tall tower which gave a splendid view over
the surrounding country,” 20 set in the middle of eight acres of garden and
pasture on Hampstead’s West Heath Road. (This house was tom down
soon after his death, however, and the unobscured view he enjoyed has also
long since disappeared.)

Lord Willingdon was sworn in as viceroy on April 18, 1931. Before leav¬
ing London he had been “so pleased” to meet with Jinnah at his home on
Abbey Road on the morning of Saturday, March 21. 21 Though no record of
their conversation has as yet come to light, it was hardly a social chat be¬
tween old friends. Jinnah doubtless reiterated the Muslim position, briefing
the new viceroy on all of the latest demands that had been added since he
first drafted his fourteen points. Willingdon’s response can well be imagined,
for he was always vocal in support of every minority and encouraging to
Muslim demands. He must have been pleased to see how much Jinnah’s
political point of view had “matured” since their last heated confrontation.

Jinnah hoped initially to enter Parliament as a Labour M. P., desiring
"lo try the fortune of the ballot box in a party which in the main” agreed
with his own “political creed.” 22 His uncooperative stance on several key
issues at the First Round Table conference had, however, left Ramsay Mac¬
Donald less than eager to further this erstwhile friend’s political ambitions,
and by Juno the prime minister wanted nothing whatsoever to do with
Jinnali, nelually rclusing lo see him by pleading "it is absolutely impossible
for me lo fit in another engagement." 811 Jinnah laid by then gone so Inr us to

•26 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

join the Fabian Society, 24 yet even that did not make him sufficiently attrac¬
tive to Labour’s leadership as a Commons candidate. To British workingmen
dapper Jinnah hardly looked like a trustworthy representative—one York¬
shire Labourite was reported having said, after listening to Jinnah talk to
In's party’s selection committee, “We don’t want a toff like that!” By June,
therefore, Jinnah decided to try securing the nod to run for a Tory con¬
st ituency; he abandoned Labour and turned to the Aga Khan for help.
Though the Conservative party was traditionally opposed to all Indian po¬
ll I ieal aspirations, Jinnah, much like the Aga Khan himself, hoped to appeal
lo their growing interest in Muslim demands as the only effective internal
counterpoise to Congress revolutionaries.

I liven with such high-level help, including the Aga Khan’s personal
couching, however, Jinnah never managed to find a Tory constituency will¬
ing to back his candidacy. Had he been elected to Parliament, he might
never have returned to India’s political stage, except for brief visits, such as
I lie one he undertook in August 1931 when he ventured east to defend a
largo landowning client in a Talukdari case before the chief court of Oudh
in Lucknow. Jinnah spoke at Lucknow University’s union one evening
(luring that trip, reporting on the Round Table conference and “his disap¬
pointment at the attitude of the Hindu leaders.” Karachi’s former mayor,
Nyed I lashim Raza, recalled how he “raised his fore-finger . . . revolving it
with the words:—‘We went round and round in London. We are still going
round and round in India without reaching the straight path that would
lead us to freedom.’ ” 25

During this sojourn in India, Jinnah visited Simla, conferring with old
Assembly colleagues who were there for the fall legislative session. Sind’s
Mian Sir Iiaji Haroon had written earlier to report that “There is no cohe¬
sion or discipline of any kind. . . . Needless to say we are all feeling your
absence keenly.” 28 Sir A. P. Patro, the leader of Madras’s Non-Brahman Jus¬
tice party, had written Jinnah in much the same vein: “There is no outstand¬
ing leader among the Moslems, there are many lieutenants but no general.
I Vom this point of view I thought you would have been very helpful to
Indian Unity . . . Intrigue and jealousy rampant on all sides. . . . We feel
vour absence very much.” 27 Jinnah met briefly with Willingdon in Simla.

by the evening of August 27, Gandhi, who had been released from
prison by Irwin had made up his mind to go to London for the second
Hound Table conference, as he reported to Willingdon, not “without fear,
trembling and serious misgivings. Things from the Congress standpoint do
not appear In be al all Imppy but I urn relying upon your repeated assur¬
ances that you Will f 'ive personal atlrniion lo everything tlml js brought to
vour notice," u " Willingdon sent Ills "blessings and all good wishes," Informing

London (1930-33) 127

Gandhi, “You can entirely rely upon my assurance to you.” 29 To Ramsay
MacDonald, the viceroy had recently written of Gandhi, “He is a curious
little devil—always working for an advantage. In all his actions I see the
‘bania’ predominating over the saintl” 30 Gandhi embarked for London as
sole representative of the Congress. Jawaharlal wanted to accompany him,
and many “friends” urged Gandhi to take Nehru along but the Mahatma
refused to allow any of his colleagues to share his London limelight.

Jinnah returned “home” by early September. The new passport he had
taken out in 1931 “gave England, not India, as his place of residence.” 31
Fatima was waiting in Hampstead, and Dina was safely enrolled in her
private boarding school nearby. Secretary of State Wedgwood Benn invited
Jinnah to sit on the Federal Structure Committee at the second Round
Table conference that started on September 7, 1931, but his role was much
diminished from what it had been the previous year. All eyes were on
Gandhi in 1931, for his was the voice of Congress on every committee as
well as at the plenary sessions where he spoke. The Federal Structure Com¬
mittee met from September 7-27 under Lord Sankey’s chairmanship. The
next day the Minorities Committee was reconvened by Ramsay MacDonald,
with Gandhi joining its ranks; it met till November 18, ten days after which
the entire Conference gathered again in St. James’s Palace in plenary session.

The second Round Table conference achieved no greater unity than the
first had done for all its strenuous, wordy labor and well-meaning leaders,
Sankey, Sapru, Gandhi, Ambedkar (the leader of the Untouchables), and
Jayakar. The ranks of the Muslim delegation remained firm behind the line
of their as yet unmet demands of the previous year. Though Lord Sankey
reported that his committee had concluded its lengthy deliberations with
the hope that an all-India federation was possible, Jinnah spoke for the
entire Muslim deputation when he insisted, “I am still of the opinion that
the achievement and completion of the scheme of all-India Federation
must, with the best will in the world, take many years. No outstanding vital
ingredient of the scheme has yet been agreed upon.” 32 Sir Shah Nawaz
Bhutto, one of Sind’s wealthiest landowners and the father of Pakistan’s
future prime minister, voiced much the same feeling, noting before Ramsay
MacDonald’s concluding statement, “The Conference has come to an end
without achieving any tangible result.” 33

Mr. G. 1). Birla, one of India’s wealthiest millowners and Congress sup¬
porters, represented the Federation of Indian Chambers of Commerce and
Industry ill this second conference and “frankly” stated, “we are not at all
satisfied with what has taken place.” 34 Birla’,s critique of the Indian budget
and financial situation was as brilliantly scathing as any made to the face
of a lit iti.sli cabinet minister lUrlu suggested a number of ways In which to

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

IV. lute the British "mortgage” to 40 or 50 percent of India’s annua] budget
but then voiced the strongest attack of the conference against constitutional
Mil..guards, warning “you should not ignore the Indian investor.” The In-
dluu investor, Birla argued, himself one of their leaders, "detests these safe-
g.uiids, because these safeguards which are proposed are not in his interest;

I boy are in the interests of City financiers.” 35

< ■undhi was last to address the conference, starting his speech after mid-
ulglil on December 1, 1931. “All the other parties at this meeting represent
sectional interests,” argued the Mahatma.

< '.ingress alone claims to represent the whole of India, all interests. It
is no communal organisation; it is a determined enemy of communal-
ism in any shape or form. ... And yet here I see that the Congress is
li. ulcd as one of the Parties. ... I wish I could convince all the
bi ihsli public men, the British Ministers, that the Congress is capable
ol delivering the goods. The Congress is the only all-Indiawide na-
I'omd organisation, bereft of any communal basis. . . . Believe me,
llml (Mussulman) problem exists here, and I repeat . . . that without
'I'" problem of minorities being solved there is no Swaraj for India,

I i. is no freedom for India. . . . But I do not despair of some day
III' Dlbcr finding a real and living solution in connection with the
minorities, problem. I repeat . . . that so long as the wedge in the
J la l KI 1,1 foreign rule divides community from community and class
""" <,,llss > there will be no real living solution, there will be no living
Irlondship between these communities. . . . Were Hindus and Mus-
'•"bimiis and Sikhs always at war with one another when there was

no British rule, when there was no English face seen thereP . . . This

. I'HII 1 1 1 IS not old; this quarrel is coeval with this acute shame. I dare
In say U is coeval with the British advent. 36

I lio Agu Khun himself did not feel confident about the true strength of

. Ml, " ,il " majority either in Bengal or in the Punjab, since as he had

"i" ll"i written lo Jinnah, “in view of the fact that Moslem women are under

I. . . 1 lmm y '’Of prepared to go to the poll-and also the economic

bidi’bletlucss ol Moslems to Hindus-the mere fact of giving them a majority
"" "'S 18101 ' 'foes not get rid of the trouble.” 35 Jinnah felt even more

I'J.umiy it limit Hie second conference and its prospects, as he told an old

I.. l |it ‘"«l. Durgii Das, at lunch in Simpson’s, “What can you expect

1 .. 11 i""iboi'co of this kind? The British will only make an exhibition of

mil illlliiiiinccs. * lie anticipated that nothing would conic of Gandhi’s ap-

... ««m«, predicting that the British “will make a fool of him,

ami III. will intiko a fool of thorn" and asking, "Wli™. Is the Congross data

London (1930-33) 129

that it represents the Muslims as well? ... I expect nothing to come out of
this conference.”

The discussions . . . during the past two months have been of value in
showing us more precisely the problems we have to solve,” concluded Prime
Minister MacDonald in his closing remarks. 39 And as positive and immedi¬
ate steps, MacDonald announced his government’s decision to bring the
North-West Frontier province into full governor’s status, and to create a
new equally advanced province of Sind, two direct concessions to Muslim
demands that helped convince the Muslim delegation of the wisdom of its
political strategy to date, though the North-West Frontier, under the leader¬
ship of “Frontier Gandhi,” Abdul Ghaffar Khan would align itself with
Congress rather than the Muslim League in future elections.

In moving his vote of thanks to the prime minister, on behalf of the con¬
ference, Gandhi warned that it was “somewhat likely” that “so far as I am
concerned we have come to the parting of the ways,” and, indeed, soon
after reaching Indian soil he would be arrested again in Bombay on Willing-
don’s order. Jinnah, on the other hand, urged Britain’s government to “give
Provincial Autonomy without delay simultaneously with responsibility at
the Centre in British India,” recognizing, as he did, the total impossibility
of getting the princes to agree to any federal scheme. Pie further advised
his British friends, as MacDonald intimated, to “decide the communal ques¬
tion provisionally. I say this because, if the British Government settle the
communal question and make a substantial advance towards real responsi¬
bility at the Centre in British India, both Hindus and Mahommedans will
realise the earnestness on the part of the Government and the bulk of the
people will accept their decision.” 40 The stage was thus set for the next
decade of political tug-of-war, with Jinnah’s constitutional formula proving
in part prophetic in anticipating British intentions, while Gandhi and his
side braced themselves for longer incarcerations and stiffer revolutionary
resistance.

The next few years in London would be the quietest, least political years
<>i Jinnah’s adult life. His daily routine rarely altered. Breakfast at nine, then
of! to chambers in the City. He had an English chauffeur, Bradbury, who
drove the Bentley. Tie quickly established a reputation for excellence before
I lie Privy Council. Yet in spite of this, he was never invited to serve as a
judge on il as jayakar would later be. Justice Chagla reported that “He did
nol succeed in his practice in the Privy Council as he had expected,” 41
which "chastenod" Jinnah, predisposing him to return to India in 1934.

Ihirgu Du.s confirmed tills, noting that during their “excellent meal" at
Simpson n, "Jlmiiih confessed he was not enamoured of Ids legal praclioe In

130

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

131

London; whal he coveted professionally was a seat on the Judicial Com¬
mittee of the Privy Council. Or he might try to enter Parliament.” 42 The
truth, in fact, seems to be that he did succeed as well as any lawyer could,
but that simply was not enough to keep him occupied. Parliament, of
course, was his goal, yet every constituency remained closed to him. The
judicial committee of the Privy Council, had it been offered, would prob¬
ably have proved as much of a bore as did appealing to its tribunal. In less
than a year he must have paced off every inch of Hampstead Heath and
had probably eaten in every decent restaurant in London. Even if the
theater continued to lure him to the West End and old friends to Oxford or
Cambridge, there was really nothing to tax his talents, no challenge left to
his life, no summits to win, no opponents worthy of his genius to vanquish.
At fifty-five he appeared to have achieved a routine resembling the perfect
tranquillity of the grave.

Dina was his sole comfort, but Dina was away at school most of the
time and home only for brief holidays. She was a dark-eyed beauty, lithe
and winsome. She had her mother’s smile and was pert or petulant as only
an adored, pampered daughter could be to her doting father. He had two
dogs, one formidable black Doberman, the other a white West Highland
Terrier. And there was always Fatima, of course, but she was much too
somber, too busy worrying, ever “guarding” him from “intruders,” and es¬
pecially women. “She hated any woman he ever liked,” Begum Liaquat Ali
Khan recalled. “Oh, how she hated Ruttie! I think she must have been
jealous of us all! We used to call her the wicked-Witch!” 43 In November of
1932, Jinnah read H. C. Armstrong’s life of Kemal Ataturk, Grey Wolf, and
seemed to have found his own reflection in the story of Turkey’s great
modernist leader. It was all he talked about for a while at home, even to
I >lim who nicknamed him “Grey Wolf.” Being only thirteen, her way of
eajollngly pestering him to take her to High Road to see Punch and Judy,
who surfaced in Hampstead every Sunday, was, “Come on, Grey Wolf, take
on- lo a pantomime; after all, I am on my holidays.” 44

There were other distractions as well, yet all too few and far between.
Ih'gmn Shah Nawaz returned to London to help transform the recommen¬
dations of the first two conferences into a bill for Parliament, the sort of job
JI in in 1 1 was best equipped to carry out, yet he was not even invited to at-
lend the third Round Table conference or to meet with Parliament’s Joint
Select Committee, which the second Marquess of Linlithgow (1887-1952)
chaired. The Aga Khan and Zafrulla Khan, Sapru and Jayakar, Patro and
Ambodluir were there, cheek by jowl with Iliudinge and Irwin, Attlee and
Zetland, the Lord < llmiieellor and tin* Archbishop of Canterbury. However,
there was no Jinnah, no Gandhi, no Nohni, (Juwidioilid laid been arrested

LONDON (1930-33)

again in Allahabad before Gandhi reached Bombay, and by mid-January

1932 both heads of Congress were left to languish behind British bars.
Jinnah’s London retreat could hardly be compared to the harsh, enforced
isolation of a prison cell, yet he must have felt almost as lonely and cut off
at times in Hampstead.

Government’s “Communal Decision” was presented to Parliament in
August 1932, in keeping with the prime minister’s promise at the end of the
second Round Table conference, and in response to pressure from Willing-
don urging swift action to placate India’s Muslims. That communal award
assured Muslims some 51 percent of the legislative seats in the Punjab, and
just under 50 percent in Bengal, where special interest Europeans would
hold the balance of power, retaining separate electorates and Muslim repre¬
sentation in excess of total population proportions in all Hindu majority
provinces. The third Round Table conference ended on Christmas eve 1932
with Secretary of State Sir Samuel Hoare (1880-1950) announcing that
Muslims would be assured the full 33% percent representation they de¬
manded at the All-India Federal Centre, and that Orissa as well as Sind
would become separate new provinces of British India.

In Cambridge a pamphlet was published that year, written by a thirty-
five-year-old Muslim “student” from the Punjab, Choudhary Rahmat Ali
(1897-1951). Now or Never was its title; it was subtitled Are We to Live
or Perish for Ever? The shadowy Rahmat Ali identified himself as “Founder
of the Pakistan National Movement” and named three associates, also Cam¬
bridge “students,” Mohammad Aslam Khan, Sheikh Mohammad Sadiq, and
Inayat Ullah Khan, who apparently contributed to the contents of this pam¬
phlet, which first publicized the name “Pakstan.” Rahmat Ali’s “proposed
solution of the great Hindu-Muslim problem” was written “on behalf of the
thirty million Muslims of PAKSTAN, who live in the five Northern Units of
India—Punjab, N.W.F.P. [Afghan Province], Kashmir, Sindh, and Baluchi¬
stan, embodying their inexorable demand for the recognition of their sepa¬
rate national status as distinct from the rest of India.” 45 While this early

1933 demand clearly derived inspiration, at least in part, from Iqbal’s
Allahabad address of December 1930, the Cambridge founders of this
“Pakstan national movement” insisted that their plan was “basically different
from the suggestion put forward by Doctor Sir Muhammad Iqbal,” whose
Northwest “unit” was to have remained within an all-India federation, by
insisting: "Those Provinces should have a separate Federation of their own.
There can ho no pence and tranquillity in the land if we, the Muslims, are
duped into a I liudu dominated I'l'dcTallon where we cannot be the masters
of our own destiny and captains of our own souls."’ 111

Soon lifter the I'nklNtan pamphlet wun printed, testimony by several con-

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

132

Narrative British officials before Parliament’s Joint Committee on proposed

• 'institutional Reforms echoed that as yet obscure demand. Sir Michael
() Dwyer (1864-1940), who ruled the Punjab during the Jallianwala Bagh
massacre and its martial law aftermath, testified before that committee in
mid-June, arguing against an all-India federation since “if the Federal Gov¬
ernment, with a Hindu majority, endeavours to force its will on provinces
with a Muslim majority, what is to prevent a breakaway of the Punjab, Sind,
MuInelii,stan and the N.W.F. as already foreshadowed and their possibly
lorming a Muslim Federation of their own.” [Italics added] 47 Sir Michael
did not explain where that “Muslim Federation” was “foreshadowed,” but
lie appears to have received one of Rahmat Ali’s pamphlets. Or could he
pci Imps have helped inspire it?

Sir Reginald Craddock (1868-1937), former Home member of the gov¬
ernment of India, a conservative member of Parliament (from 1931) ap¬
point <-d to Linlithgow’s Joint Committee on Indian Constitutional Reforms,
id .o knew about the Pakistan idea by August 1, 1933, when he asked Ab¬
dullah Yusuf Ali, of the North-West Frontier Province, “whether there is a
M'lirme lor Federation of Provinces under the name of Pakistan?” 48 Yusuf
All s answer was, “As far as I know, it is only a student’s scheme; no respon-

• il)lc people have put it forward.” Sir Reginald was more sanguine about its
prospects, however, stating: “They have not so far, but . . . you advance
very ipiiekly in India, and it may be, when those students grow up it will
be pul forward; that scheme must be in the minds of the people anyhow.”
Mi Tiulrulla Khan (1893-1981), the previous year’s president of the League,
d on lined to be come Pakistan’s foreign minister, had never heard of the word
in movement. Mr. Isaac Foot, a Liberal member of Parliament, who, unlike
< ■ruddock, had no prior India experience, asked, “What is Pakistan?” To
•Ins ^ iisiiI Ali, who served as spokesman for the joint five-member Muslim
delegation of the Muslim League and the All-India Muslim Conference to

• he Parliamentary commitee, replied: “So far as we have considered it, we
Imvo considered it chimerical and impracticable. It means the Federation
"I certain Provinces.” Yet Craddock was still not willing to drop this “chi-
i"ciic;d subject, pressing on with, “I have received communications about
I lie proposal of forming a Federation of certain Muslim States under the
inline "I Pakistan." Another member of the Muslim deputation, Dr. Khalifa
Slmjauddln, Insisted, "Perhaps it will be enough to say that no such scheme
lias been considered by any representative gentlemen or association so far.”

II Jlinmh knew about the Pakistan scheme at this date, there was no :in-
dleullon In Ills papers ol such knowledge or of any personal interest ex¬
pressed In It, Nor would lie agree to meet wllli Itahmat All tile following
year, despite several ulleniptN by 5 lie litllei to discuss Ills Ideas with JIntillll

LONDON (1930-33) 133

in London. 49 Nor was Jinnah willing as yet to accept the Muslim League’s
invitation to return to India to preside over its annual deliberations in Delhi
in April of 1933. “I cannot return to India before December next,” he re¬
plied to that telegraphic invitation from Abdul Matin Choudhury in March.

Besides I don’t see what I can do there at present. You very rightly
suggest that I should enter the Assembly. But is there much hope in
doing anything there? These are questions which still make me feel
that there is no room for my services in India, yet I am sorry to re¬
peat, but there is no chance of doing anything to save India till the
Hindus realise the true position. . . . The Hindus are being fooled
... by chance any scheme goes through, it will be worse than what
is at present. . . . Thank you for your suggestion that I should try
and stand for election as Sir Ibrahim [Rahimtoola] is going to resign.
Well! I can’t say till I come to India as I am due in December, at any
rate for a few months. 50

The scheduled December visit was for business, yet the prospect of re-
election to the assembly clearly tempted him. It was not Parliament, though
one day soon it might almost be. Perhaps he was simply getting bored with
Hampstead. Liaquat Ali Khan and his beautiful begum arrived that summer
to add their voices to those seeking to Imre Jinnah home. They had come to
London for their honeymoon and met Jinnah at a reception, where he in¬
vited them to dinner in Hampstead. “You must come back,” Liaquat urged.
“The people need you. You alone can put new life into the League and
save it.” Begum Liaquat, much like Begum Shah Nawaz, appealed to him
with the same vital glowing beauty, idealistic enthusiasm, and hero worship
that Ruttie had displayed during their exciting early years of marriage. His
heart’s fire, his ambition began to burn again with the revitalized brilliance
of the twilight glow of fifty-seven years. Liaquat’s imprecations, offers of
assistance, and flattery were, of course, an added factor, for Jinnah always
responded to appeals aimed at his ego, his unique capacity to “save” the
situation. In London, the only round table left to him was one at which he
and Fatima dined alone, rarely speaking to one another and never smiling.
Most evenings, except in those scarce interludes when a beautiful begum
appeared, the house lights at Hampstead Heath Road remained dim. And
what great actor, after all, would not find the prospect of an eagerly await¬
ing vast audience tempting enough to lure him back home, at least for part
of each year?

London - Lucknout
( 1934 - 37 )

Jinnah returned to Bombay in 1934, but did not close his Hampstead estab¬
lishment or abandon his City chambers. The next few years would be spent
sailing back and forth between the two worlds that claimed him, seeking to
parcel out his days between those basically incompatible lands, and trying
to keep himself attuned to both time zones while living mostly in limbo.

On March 4, 1934, the Muslim League met in New Delhi and resolved
to heal the second major split, which had fragmented the party one year
earlier, when its acting president, barrister Mian Abdul Aziz of Peshawar,
fired all the secretaries and ‘attempted to transform the League into a
party of his own. 1 The Aziz Group, as it came to be called, met in Plowrah
across the Hughli from Calcutta in October 1933; it claimed legitimacy, but
a month later the Hidayat Group, named after its president Khan Bahadur
Hafiz Hidayat Husain, branded Aziz and his followers “rebels.” Hidayat
Husain had attended the Round Table conferences, where he had regularly
met with Jinnah, Shafi, and the Aga Khan and had supported the unified
Muslim demands. One of the resolutions passed by his group in 1933 author¬
ized the League Council to meet with Jinnah and the Aga Khan to discuss
plans for bringing about unity in the ranks of the League.” 2 Aziz readily
agreed to bring his group back to the Leagues fold if Jinnah presided over
a unified party. Hidayat was at first reluctant to surrender his post as presi¬
dent but finally agreed to step down for Jinnah, remaining honorary secre¬
tary of the League. Jinnah was authorized by the council in March to set
the date and place of the 1934 annual session, but he had already booked
passage to sail for London on April 23, so he could moot with the council
only on April I and 2 in New Delhi.

Jitmiili was given "an nilliusliislle welcome" hy the forty odd members

LONDON-LUCKNOW (1934-37) 135

of council who attended the proceedings that were closed to the press. After
the council meeting ended, Jinnah granted the Associated Press an inter¬
view, stating: “The League is perfectly sound and healthy, and the conclu¬
sion I have come to is that Musalmans will not lag behind any other com¬
munity in serving the very best interests of India. To condemn the White
Paper, one does not require special arguments, one has only got to read the
White Paper proposals . . . that is enough.” 3 Sir Samuel Hoare had pre¬
sented his proposals for Indian constitutional reform, known as the White
Paper, to Parliament in March 1933. The federation of India was to be a
union of governors’ provinces and Indian states, all of whose “powers”
would remain vested in the (British) Crown. Executive authority over the
federation was to be exercised on behalf of Britain’s king emperor by a
governor-general appointed at His Majesty’s “pleasure,” whose powers in¬
cluded supreme command of the military, naval, and air forces in India, and
who would personally direct and control the departments of defense, exter¬
nal affairs, and ecclesiastical affairs. Such extraordinary powers were unique
under any system of government deemed “constitutional,” and Jinnah was
one of their most outspoken critics. A bicameral federal legislature was en¬
visioned, consisting of a council of state with not more than 260 members,
150 of whom would be elected from British India, and an assembly with
not more than 375 members, 250 of whom would be elected from British
India, with the rest appointed to represent the princely states. There were
to be eleven governors’ provinces (including Sind and Orissa), with the ap¬
pointed governor over each representing the British king. The governor
would be empowered to select ministers to assist him in running his prov¬
ince during his pleasure.” He would, however be “enjoined” to seek to
select such executive aid “in consultation with the person who, in his judg¬
ment, is likely to command the largest following in the Legislature” and to
appoint those best in a position collectively to command the confidence of
Ihe Legislature.” 4 Such was the nature of provincial “autonomy” envisioned
by the White Paper. There were many elaborate safeguards and emergency
powers provided for the governors “in the event of a Breakdown in the
(constitution. Winston Churchill led a vigorous Tory opposition to the
White Paper on March 17, 1933, but it passed through Parliament with a
comfortable 3 to 1 margin, indicative of how secure most Englishmen felt
with the new Indian reforms.

Jimmlis strategy at this point was to turn back toward the Congress to
sec i! its leadership might not, in 1 act, he prepared to concede all that Mac¬
Donald s Communal Award had promised to Muslims, 1 ' thus clearing the way
lor Hindus and Muslims to join forces in a common front against the White
Paper. Angered at the Tory parly's rejection of Ills hid for a parliamentary

136 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

ticket, disgusted at the high-handed way in which Willingdon and Hoare
were running India, Jinnah hoped the time was ripe for communal peace
and was ready to launch a new series of talks aimed at weaning Congress
from its dependence upon the Hindu Mahasabha position. “Can we even at
this eleventh hour bury the hatchet, and forget the past in the presence of
imminent danger,” Jinnah asked Congress in his statement to the Associated
Press.

. . . nothing will give me greater happiness than to bring about
complete co-operation and friendship between Hindus and Muslims;
and in this desire, my impression is that I have the solid support of
Musalmans. . . .

Muslims are in no way behind any other community in their demand
for national self-government. The crux of the whole issue, therefore,
is: can we completely assure Muslims that the safeguards to which
they attach vital importance will be embodied in the future Constitu¬
tion of India? 6

Jinnah’s willingness to continue to work toward a united national plat¬
form terrified the more pro-British leaders of the League like Sir Fazl-i-
lltisain and Hidayat Husain, who joined with the nawab of Chhatari in
trying to muster a Muslim majority against Jinnah as soon as his ship disap¬
peared over the Arabian Sea’s horizon. They met to form a “Parliamentary
Majlis" that was convened by the nawab of Chhatari, 7 but it did not prove
very effective, since they failed, despite Hidayat’s vigorous exertions, to
convene an emergency meeting of the Muslim League’s council to validate

I lie new group’s claim to represent most Muslims. Old Hidayat’s strenuous
labors and frustrations were responsible for his death before the year ended,

II ms removing the mainspring from that Majlis “revolt” against Jinnah’s
leadership. Jinnah’s “pendulum strategy” of swinging the ballast of Muslim
support from Congress to the British and then back again, which thus won
llie greatest concessions for Muslims at every stage of the long, tough
struggle toward a negotiated transfer of power, remained his most effective
long-range technique.

While in London, Jinnah was re-elected that October by the Muslims of
Bombay City to represent them in New Delhi’s assembly. There was, in fact,
no contest since his was the only name nominated for the seat he had first
taken before World War I, and to which he would return as leader of the
assembly’s Independent party, lie sailed back to Bombay in December 1934
and entrained to Now Delhi in January .1935. jinnab soon thereafter met
with Congress president Bajendra Prasad (1.884 19(13), a llllinrl lawyer des-

LONDON-LUCKNOW (1934-37) 137

tined to become India’s first president, but their “heart-to-heart” talks failed
to resolve the communal deadlock. Pandit Madan Malaviya, leader of the
Hindu Mahasabha, who had also been president of the Congress, still ada¬
mantly refused to accept Jinnah’s Muslim demands despite their equity.
Thus, once again, the fate of helpless millions was sealed by a few stubborn
leaders who refused to stretch that extra inch of representational conces¬
sion to close the gap dividing India’s pluralistic society and keeping it con¬
stitutionally fragmented. The Jinnah-Prasad talks came to “an infructuous
end,” as Prasad put it, alienating the one Muslim leader capable of reining
his impatient, high-spirited community into harness with Congress’s bullock
team.

In February 1935, Jinnah stood on the floor of New Delhi’s assembly to
introduce an amendment in the debate that had just begun on Indian con¬
stitutional reform. Plis three-part proposal was to accept the Communal
Award segment of the White Paper “until a substitute is agreed upon by
the various communities concerned”; to urge the removal of “objectionable
features” from the provincial government section, “particularly the establish¬
ment of Second Chambers, the extraordinary and special powers of the
Governors, provisions relating to Police rules, Secret Service and Intelli¬
gence Departments, which render the real control and responsibility of the
Executive and Legislature ineffective”; and to reject the all-India federation
scheme proposed for the center as “thoroughly rotten, fundamentally bad
and totally unacceptable.” 8 Bhulabhai Desai (1877-1946), leader of the
assembly’s Congress party spoke against Jinnah’s proposal to support the
Communal Award, but Congress did not vote against part one—it merely ab¬
stained. Jinnah proved himself the most brilliant parliamentarian in British
India.

My amendment accepts the Communal Award . . . until a substitute
is agreed upon between the communities concerned. Now, it may be
that our Hindu friends are not satisfied with the Communal Award,
but at the same time I can also tell the House that my Muslim friends
are not satisfied with it either . . . and, again speaking as an indi¬
vidual, my self-respect will never be satisfied until we produce our
own scheme. . . . But why do I accept it? ... I accept it because
we have done everything that wc could so far to come to a settlement
. . . therefore, whether I like it or whether I do not like it, I accept
it, because unless I accept that no scheme of Constitution is possible.

. . . Sir, this is a question of minorities and it is a political issue. . . .
Minorities means a combination of tilings. It may be that a minority
has a diderenl religion from the oilier citizens of a country. Their lan-

138

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

guage may be different, their race may be different, their culture may
be different, and the combination of all these various elements-
religion, culture, race, language, arts, music, and so forth makes the
minority a separate entity in the State, and that separate entity as an
entity wants safeguards. Surely, therefore, we must face this question
as a poliical problem; we must solve it and not evade it. 3

Jinnah’s argument earned the House by a vote of 68 to 15, with the offi¬
cial bloc and elected Europeans voting with him. As for parts two and three
oi his proposal, they were voted upon together, with Congress supporting
him and the government opposed, and those amendments carried by an
even greater majority. Jinnah realized full well that his was but a “paper
victory,” one that Britain’s Parliament could ignore with impunity; but he
Imd at least demonstrated both to Britain’s Tory party and to the Congress
that his tiny minority voice could still be magnified, and if modulated
properly, win enough strategic support to carry India’s “Commons’-trans-
IDrilling Muslim minority demands into a majority position. Yet it remained
an uphill struggle, trying to recapture and retain a position of national
leadership in a land where he lived only for a few months of each year. He
sought to win back former disciples, like Chagla, in Bombay, but Chagla
would not rejoin the Muslim League, rejecting his old boss’ appeals and
countering them by urging Jinnah to organize a "thoroughly non-communal

. strong party . . . to recapture his position as a tribune of the people.” 10

On the eve of his sixtieth birthday, however, Jinnah was hardly prepared
lo abandon the one party that retained enough faith in him to elect him to
lead il. lie returned aboard the S.S. Conte Verde to London again in late
April ol 11135, continuing to divide his year between the poles of his estab-
lisliiutuils. For the next six months Jinnah was preoccupied with his legal
muL, which had by this time become so lucrative that he reportedly earned
lO.imil rupees per month ( £2,000) at the Bar alone.

Bi fore the end of October 1935, he returned to Bombay to help re-
'"'gaiilzc his Muslim League in preparation for the elections that would
bring II fresh cadre of representatives to British India’s provincial and cen-
biil legislatures under the Government of India Act of 1935. That act was

pnssed Into law on August 2, 1935, and though its all-India federation sec-
lli"i would never be implemented, the other portions of it served for the
inosl part as the constitution for British India after 1937 and remained the
■ li lclal framework lor both India and Pakistan for years after each attained

lixU-pniitl.a! a decade lulor. The inimitable Winston Churchill dismissed

(lie act IIS the rollon fruit of half a deoiide of "tumultuous confabulations”

Inal "has braiiglil us nothing llial has

Ihtii good lor this conn try or India,”

•narking no advance Inwards I'lllclency, no advance Iowhi’iIn Hnnlltv. and,

london-lucknow (1934-37) 139

above all, no advance towards agreement.” 11 Jinnah felt about the 1935 act
precisely the way he had about the White Paper that sired it. “We all know
that the new Constitution has been forced upon us,” he said, on returning
to India late in 1935. “It is now the duty of the various leaders to put their
heads together and chalk out a definite and common policy with regard to
the Constitution. 12 Jinnah s critique of the all-India federation in New
Delhi’s assembly in 1935 had been the strongest attack against it expressed
in India, for Gandhi, who had announced his “retirement” from Congress in
September 1934, devoted himself to the abolition of untouchability and
village reforms as part of his sarvodaya (“uplift of all”) socialism.

I believe that it [the proposed federation] means nothing but ab¬
solute sacrifice of all that British India has stood for and developed
during the last 50 years, in the matter of progress in the representa¬
tive form of Government. No province was consulted as such. No
consent of the princes has been obtained whether they are willing to
federate as federating units on the terms which are laid down . . .
by the British Government. My next objection is that it is not work¬
able. 13

And before retaking his seat in that important debate, Jinnah explained
why he proposed accepting the provincial autonomy section of the new
constitution:

First of all, the franchise, enlargement of the electors and voters.
That is the foundation-stone of any Constitution. . . . Next, all mem¬
bers of the Provincial Legislatures will be elected: that is an ad¬
vance. Your cabinet in the provinces will be of the elected members
responsible to the Legislature and the Legislature will be respon¬
sible to the electorates. That framework of the Provincial Constitu¬
tion is undoubtedly an advance. 14

Jawaharlal Nehru had been released from prison in September 1935 and
permitted to leave India to join his tubercular wife Kamala then living in
Germany. Nehru remained in Europe till Kamala’s death on February 28,
1936, but visited England for brief interludes, where he avoided meeting
witli British officials. However, Lord Lothian (1882-1940), the liberal par¬
liamentary undersecretary of state for India who had chaired the reforms
franchise committee, tried very hard to lure Nehru to his country house,
where lie and the Earl of Halifax (formerly Lord Irwin), Britain’s new for¬
eign minister, hoped, unsuccessfully, to convince Nehru of the value of
llieii Indian constitution, I hen Nehru returned to India to take charge of
C iongress once again, succeeding Prasad as president In 1930.

I lie Muslim League mol in Mnmlmy llial April, with JInniili as penna

140

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

nent president introducing his old Lucknow Pact colleague. Sir Syed Wazir
I Iasan, the retired chief justice of Lucknow’s high court, to preside over the
League’s 1936 session. Fazl-i Husain should have presided, but the illness
resulting in his death later that year forced him to withdraw. Sir Fazl-i bit¬
terly disliked Jinnah and wrote in his diary a month earlier, “I will not now
go out of my way to be nice to him.” ls Jinnah gave him no opportunity to
lest that resolve, however, twice postponing the last meeting they had
scheduled for Saturday, March 7, 1936, then calling to say “he was too
litisy. Sir Fazl-i concluded, "It appears that he was avoiding seeing me.”

The Bombay session of the League initiated the slow process of trans-
lorming that small fragmented party into a mass movement with district
brunch volunteers throughout the country, who could nominate candidates
ami spread the League’s message in every Muslim town and village of South
Amu. An initial fund of half a million rupees was to be raised by the League
council to pay for expanded secretariat needs, but student volunteers were
'cciiulcd from Aligarh and other universities to carry on the political spade
J mnah ' s idea ’ ™ ieed by Sir Syed Hasan in his presidential address
was In issue a joint Congress-League invitation to all “other progressive po¬
ll lira I parties in the country, to find such minimum measure of agreement as
Wiinld enable us to act together ... to dr-aft a Constitution for India.” It
was one more try for the original Lucknow Pact approach and the pre-
C ini report All-Parties Conference concept. He had even gone so far as to
'hall lour points that would serve, he hoped, to lure Jawaharlal’s Congress,
Hl'cuils. and possibly even the Mahasabha to a Round Table-this time on
Imlliin soil.

I. A democratic responsible government, with adult franchise, to
lake the place of the present system

1 1' ■ j »< *a 1 o 1 all exceptionally repressive laws and the granting of the
liglil ol free speech, freedom of the press and organization
•f Immediate economic relief to the peasantry; State provision for
educated and uneducated unemployed; and an eight-hour work-
1,1 M 4ay, with fixed minimum wages for the workers
I Introduction of free, compulsory primary education 18

1 .'i 1 ' movod tlle ^solution stating his League’s “emphatic protest

7'..Constitution as embodied in the Government of India

1 " l ,a ’' ".poo tile people of India against their will, and in spite of their
lepoutod disapproval and dissent.” h, speaWng to ibis resolution. Jinnah ad-

V Iso,I Ills followers, indeed, nil “Indians* to treat flic new federal scheme the

... " " v "" 11,11 ' but' reacted h. the Treaty of Versailles. II,- viewed

.. l ""“ l "Hhutlnn” us Hi.. , m ,„d ..* f or |mw , lrl „ g

141

LONDON-LUCKNOW (1934-37)

British into changing their scheme, since, as he put it, “Armed revolution
was an impossibility, while non-co-operation had been tried and found a
ai me. Io effect such a constitutional transformation, however “required
all communities to stand shoulder to shoulder.”

Supreme strategist of pendulum negotiations that he was, Jinnah probed
first at the weak points of one opponent, then rushed to the opposite side’s
exposed flank, always seeking as he shifted his ground to rally his former
enemy to his side. Small wonder both sides mistrusted himl Yet each un¬
derrated him, failing to see that he was, in fact, the most ingenius advocate
hen of India as a whole and later of its Muslim minority alone, extracting
or each client the greatest constitutional concession which the British, and
ongress, were willing to grant at eveiy turn. Just when one side thought it
had him securely in its corner, Jinnah twirled with agility totally out of
reach. For example, in New Delhi's assembly in March 1936, the Congress
party had tabled an adjournment motion of censure against the government
OT having arrested Subhas Chandra Bose. The British confidently faced that
no-confidence challenge, assuming they had more than enough indepen-
dent party votes to put it down. But as Jawaharlal jubilantly wrote in a

“ !T aS ’ 6 C ™ S , ure motion “ was P assed by a majority of three
Jmnah and some of his colleagues remaining bravely neutral.” 18
A month later Lord Linlithgow replaced Lord Willingdon as viceroy
coming out to inaugurate the Constitution he had been most instrumental
in helping to complete as chairman of the joint parliamentary committee. In
is first broadcast to India, Linlithgow tried to assure his pluralistic audi¬
ence of his personal impartiality, stating, “God has indeed been good to me
for he has given me five children. ... I love them all most dearly. But
among my children I have no favourite.” 18 The viceroy’s son, who reported
hat speech also wrote of Jinnah’s “reaction” to it as “ominous,” adding in

iTiSr t T LMith S° W ’ S P eroe Ptt°n of the League leader’s policy,
tl t he told his followers that the new Viceroy's pledge of impartiality was
-a. poor reward for Muslim loyalty to the Government.”

That same month Jinnah stood before the Muslim League, almost six
ycais after Iqbals Allahabad address and a full three yearn after the first
Cambridge call for Pakistan, urging Ins followers to "stand “shoulder re

This madet^ ^ ^ tIindl ™ a i° rit y parties in the nation,

.mul,. t far more difficult, of course, for him to win or maintain the

l ; 0lI f l 8 ,u ; s - especially powerful provincial barons like
’ 1 11 "fijul>, Sir Gliulnm Hussain UIdayntullnli (1879-1948) of

i <n "m 1 ,s r 11 :"" 11 (ww " ,so) <* *»»<«•. <>r A i.<i„i o„ y „ m

"" " )IH) North West Frontier, who lltotiulil „.,| v In lime of

" P ""'“l l mivl,l, 'I" 1 pi'lvlli'gnN lur Muslims umler ||„. N |,|,,|,| 0 f „ | )f | M||1| w|nJ(

142

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

o! central power. Jinnahs vision went beyond that, soaring to encompass a
liiture of complete equality among nations, English and Indian-or Paki-
stuiir, if Congress remained as churlish as some of its leaders persisted in

I K'ing toward his Muslim demands.

1 o strengthen the League, bolster its bargaining position, and help pre¬
pare it for contesting elections, Jinnah was authorized at its Bombay meet¬
ing to appoint and preside over a new Central Parliamentary Board and
u(filiated provincial parliamentary boards. These boards, similar to those
railiri established by Congress, were to become Jinnah’s organizational
arms in extending his power over the entire Muslim community. It was not
lielore late May that he managed to win acceptance from fifty-four promi¬
nent Muslim politicians to serve on his central board, which met for the first
lime in Lahore from June 8-11, 1936. Sir Fazl-i died on July 9, removing
Jinnahs foremost rival from the venue of his board’s birth. Jinnah was,
moi cover, careful to court and win the support of Iqbal, with whom he met
In I ail lore during the last week in May.

Jinnah took all the trouble that was possible in doing my utmost to see

II in I I he Central Board is made as truly representative of the Musalmans of
India as possible,” he reported, after his board’s first meeting. 20 He con-
Millcd in Delhi with members of the council of the All-India Muslim League
mid various representatives of different provinces, who were invited “for

I ha I pm pose and spent four days in the Punjab recruiting various leaders
llieie. In addition to Iqbal, that first list included three future premiers of
I’akisla.i; Li aqua t Ali Khan of the United Provinces, PI. S. Suhrawardy
(1893 1962 ) of Bengal, and Ismail I. Chundrigar (1897-1960) of Bombay.
Thanks to Jinnah’s unique status and singular ability to attract and retain

I I *e loyal support of young men of such talent, intelligence, and integrity,
tlie scattered crowd of Muslims” were soon “welded into a nation.” 21 Jin-
imli s lieutenants included men of wealth and business experience as well as
Mi'.ili"", lielore 1936 the League had always been in financial trouble; most
members never bothered to pay their annual “subscriptions,” even though

\ •'("*• Payable Parcels were posted at considerable expense. “In a majority
nl ruses." Secretary Hasan recalled, “they were returned unpaid!” The
maharaja ol Mahmudabad came to the League’s rescue when it was still
relatively small by providing 3,000 rupees annually to support its activities
nil*'' 191 I, but other patrons had to be recruited to share the burden of run-
nim 1 , a lull lime national party. One of those financiers, who later remained
among Jlunuh's close's! personal friends in the party, was Mir/a Abol Hftssan
ls l ml . . (!»• ,!,()2 )’ lll,! wion of the wealthy Calcutta commercial and finan¬

cial empire, M, M, Ispaliiml Ltd.

bpalnml Hist met Jinnah during his •‘liesher term

at < lamhrlrlge In 1920.

LONDON-LUCKNOW (1934-37) 143

“I* was in the Michaelmas term,” Ispahan! recalled, "that Mr. Jinnah ac-
cepted the invitation of the Indian Majlis ... to address its members. He
ore wrth distinction a thin streak of grey hair right in the middle of his

f ll ' t ,™ e 1 COUld WeI1 a PP reoiate why women of diverse ages

fell captive to his charm and personality.”** They met again in London sev¬
eral weeks later at Ispahams uncle’s house on Putney Hill. Huttie’s youngest
brother, Jamshed Petit, was Ispahan's Cambridge classmate and friend.
Jinnah and his bride were invited to a "grand dinner” there, where a "jazz
band performed and most of the guests "cut capers-except for Jinnah and

ST'&W i Wh ° W6nt ° ff t0 ^ bffliards whfl e Ruttie “d ^
er did the Charleston. Despite such early intimacy, Jinnah and Ispa¬
han! rarely saw one another again till 1936, when Ispahan! was “astonished”
to be rnvrted by Jinnah to join the League’s new Central Parliamentary
Board. After becoming a banister of the Inner Temple, Ispahan! had gone
Jypy business, and, though elected to the Calcutta corporation
n 1933, took little time from business for either provincial or national poli¬
tics He did not, however, hesitate to accept Jinnah’s call and emerged as
the Leagues major backer in Bengal.

JinnalTs League was faced in 1936 with two parties competing for Ben¬
gali Muslim allegiance; the nawab of Dacca’s United Muslim party, and
azlul Haqs Knshak Proja Samitt ("Peasants and Tenants party”). The
nawab scheduled a three-day convention of his party in Calcutta’s town hall
but Ispahan! and his friends engineered a "dispute” there in early August,
iy ge mg Fazlul Haq and his followers to attend tire conference and to
demand to be heard, which lead to the conference's dissolution. "It was
agieed between the United Muslim Party leaders and Fazlul Haq’s group to
invite you to settle same,” Ispahani wired Jinnah, adding; “Wonderful op¬
portunity created please leave for Calcutta immediately advise date de-
[>arture. 23

Jinnah reached Calcutta a week later and addressed a meeting of Bengali
Muslim leaders in the town hall. The United Muslim party agreed to merge
h the League. The merger brought such vital leaders into Jinnah's ranks
is t. 3. Suhrawardy and Khwaja Nazimuddin, who would serve Pakistan
> as governor-general and prime minister, respectively. Initially, Fazlul
Inq also agreed, and Jinnah named him to the Central Parliamentary Board
by September 1 he had changed his mind. Always more radical than
Innah and equally ambitious, Fazlul Haq proved his most mercurial ally,

III SCI long remaining in Inu'ncss with anyone. The ostensible causes of his
■ lunge t in 1936 were I,Is party’s twin demands that Bangui’s zamin-

I mi (In in ll.,, (I j class lie abolished wit].compensation, and that free and

eunipulsnry ... eduuuUon lie Inlrmlueeil throughout the provlnen will.

144

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

out raising additional taxes. Jinnah favored both measures but insisted on
appropriate legal payment for each. Fazlul Haq’s Rrishak Proja Samiti ran
its own slate of candidates for Bengal’s Muslim seats and managed to cap¬
ture almost as many as Jinnah’s League did—thirty-eight to his forty. It was
not until just before the new provincial assembly met that Jinnah could nego¬
tiate an agreement with Haq, merging their parties and luring enough Mus¬
lim independents to join them in order to give the new Bengal ministry,
which Fazlul Haq himself headed, a comfortable majority. And Jinnah made
one other important addition to the League. Next to Liaquat Ali Khan, who
served Jinnah most effectively as honorary secretary of the League, the
young raja of Mahmudabad (1914-73), Amir Ahmad Khan, was Jinnah’s
I oremost supporter in the United Provinces. As the largest Muslim landlord
of I -ucknow, the raja enjoyed an estimated income of some 2 million rupees
annually. Jinnah appointed him treasurer of the League’s central board.

The platform adopted by Jinnah’s central board on which Muslim
League candidates stood for election in January-February 1937 was much
lIm same as that of Congress, including these advanced nationalist demands:

To make every effort to secure the repeal of all repressive laws; To
resist all measures which are detrimental to the interest of India,
which encroach upon the fundamental liberties of the people and
load to economic exploitation of the country; To reduce heavy cost
of administrative machinery, central and provincial, and allocate
substantial funds for nation building departments; To nationalise
Indian Army and reduce the military expenditure; To encourage de¬
velopment of Industries, including cottage industries; To regulate
currency, exchange and prices in the interest of economic develop¬
ment of the country; To stand for the social, educational and eco¬
nomic uplift of the rural population; To sponsor measures for the
relief of agricultural indebtedness; To make elementary education
free and compulsory; To take steps to reduce the heavy burden of
taxation. 24

Knob of these had long been integral to the Congress national demand,
mid nil were anathemas to more conservative Muslim parties, such as the
Agriculturist party of the United Provinces landlords, formed at Governor
Sir Malcolm Hailey’s instigation. The one clear divergence between the
League's socioeconomic position and that of Congress, however, which re-
lleried a Imsie difference in philosophy dividing Jinnah from Nehru and
Sublins Hose, was the League's firm opposition “to any movement that aims
at expropriation of private properly." liven as [awaliarlal placed increasing
I nit It in Nocinlisl solutions for India’s problems of poverty, Jinnah retreated
more I linn ever behind the laisllons ol private properly, 11 Is growing passion

london-lucknow (1934-37) 145

for real estate and his constant preoccupation with details concerning the
daily management of his ever-proliferating portfolio of properties were, in
fact, soon to rival his interest in politics. Private property, most of it forever
rooted on Indian soil, became, ironically enough, almost as fascinating a
diversion for Jinnah’s mind and energies during the last lonely decade of his
life as Pakistan itself.

By this time Rahmat Ali, the founder of the Pakistan National Move¬
ment, was residing at 16 Montague Road in Cambridge, from which a mas¬
sive quantity of strange religiopolitical pamphlets and letters appealing
mostly to British lords poured forth between 1935 and his death in 1951.
For example, “May I venture to address this appeal to your Lordship on be¬
half of the people of PAKISTAN at this critical hour,” he wrote on July 8,
1935, urging “My Lord’s sympathy and support in our fateful struggle
against the ruthless coercion of PAKISTAN into the proposed Indian Fed¬
eration. The Government of India Bill, based on the Indian Federal Scheme,
has created an acute crisis in the national life of PAKISTAN and has raised
a supreme issue—an issue of life or death—for its national future.” He
continued:

I earnestly hope that you kindly will lend your fullest support to the
inexorable demand of PAKISTAN—a demand based on justice and
equity—for the recognition of its sacred right to a separate national
existence as distinct from HINDOOSTAN. . . . PAKISTAN is not
Hindoo soil nor are its people Hindoostani citizens. . . . The very
basis and content of our national life is founded on fundaments es¬
sentially different from those on which Hindooism lives and prospers.

. . . We, the Pakistanians, have, more than once, emphatically re¬
pudiated the most shameful surrender of our national future made
by the State-nominated Muslim delegates to the Round Table Con¬
ferences in agreeing to the Indian Federal Scheme. They were neither
the delegates of PAKISTAN, nor the representatives of the Paki-
stanian people. . . . These distinguished exponents of the art of sur¬
render, in complete disregard of the warnings of history, sold our
nationality and sacrificed our posterity. They will have to answer for
this—the most contemptible betrayal of PAKISTAN—before history. 25

Jinnah continued assiduously to ignore Rahmat Ali and his angry attacks,
which were to become even more personal and virulent by the eve of Paki¬
stan’s birth. Ho would not, however, be able much longer to ignore the po¬
litical demand of Ralnnat Ali’s obviously well-funded movement sponsored
from the henrl of Cambridge. The platform adopted by the League’s central
board in 1930 included, indeed, a number of important concessions to Is¬
lamic Inndiinieiitallst groups within India, II not as yet to the extremist ud-

1 W JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

vacates of a Pakistan National Movement. Three out of fourteen planks
were drafted exclusively to appeal to special concerns of the Muslim minor¬
ity. whose 482 separate electorate seats alone were among those contested
hy Longue candidates. The League’s first plank was: “To protect the reli¬
gious lights of the Mussalmans. In all matters of purely religious character,
due weight shall be given to the opinions of Jamiat-ul-Ulema Hind [Indian
l'Irma Party] and the Mujtahids.” Two later planks were: “to protect and
promote Urdu language and script,” and “to devise measures for the amelio-
lation of the general conditions of Muslims.” The Indian Ulema party, bom
'luring the Khilafat Movement and then relatively dormant under the lead-
••rsliip of Maul ana Husain Ahmad Madani and Maulana Ahmad Said, had
merged with the Muslim Conference party in the United Provinces to con-
lest elections as the “Muslim Unity Board,” presided over by the raja of
Nulempur, with brilliant Choudhry Khaliquzzaman as its secretary. In Feb¬
ruary of 1937, Khaliquzzaman and several members of his board met with
Jinimh in Delhi and were promised a majority on the League’s United
Provinces parliamentary board if they joined forces. It was one of Jinnah’s
mosl creative political coups—surrendering numerical for nominal power.

I la- one thing he demanded was that Unity Board candidates all run as
Muslim leaguers, thus enhancing his party’s stature while broadening the
hiise ul its support. He knew that to build a national party capable of assert¬
ing, elleetive demands both to Congress and the British raj he might have
lu surrender provincial powers to any number of local magnates. He never
bulked at such demands, readily negotiating from weakness today and to¬
morrow so that on the day after his party would be in position to battle
from n vantage point of strength.

Limpiat Ali Khan was, however, furious at having lost control over
iLoosing Muslim League candidates from his own province and tried his
best to regain the power of selecting members for the UP’s Board, despite
•be I net that he was in a minority among the Lucknow seven on the League’s
««'iitriil board. Jinnah gave his verdict against Liaquat, who was so annoyed
niter their July meeting in Bombay that he resigned from both parliamen-
Inry hoards and sailed off to England for a few months. Jinnah thus almost
loM the support of the man who would become his right arm in transforming
• be I ,eague into a party second only to Congress, and Pakistan’s first prime
minister. Yet he would rather risk so important a loss than go back on his
word once il was given. Oxford-educated Liaquat later hailed him as “the
I) Israel I ol Indian politics,” admiring his “unpurchasability” and recognizing
the wisdom of his political judgment even when he most disliked its impact
on his personal base of power. Lluquul looked to Jinnah the way a British

LONDON-LUCKNOW (1934-37) 147

public school boy looked to a headmaster, with emotional ambivalence but
ultimate admiration.

Jinnah’s judgment paid off handsomely by the year’s end; his League and
its allies captured 29 out of 35 Muslim seats for which its candidates com¬
peted, while Congress returned not a single Muslim member on its own.
Rafi Ahmed Kidwai was elected only because of Khaliquzzaman’s help. It
was an impressive show of strength, and had the League done nearly as
well elsewhere, Jinnah might have wrested some real concessions from Con¬
gress s haughty leadership. In the Punjab, however, only 2 out of 7 League
candidates were elected, in Assam 9 out of 34, in Bengal 39 out of 117. Most
of the League’s minority in Bombay and Madras were returned, and 109
Muslim League seats were captured for British India as a whole. By Jinnah’s
own estimate his party returned from 60-79 percent of its total number of
candidates. Congress alone won 716 out of the 1,585 seats in all eleven
provinces, however, enjoying absolute majorities in most of the country; but
it elected only 26 Muslim members, an Achilles heel it hoped to remedy
through working much harder in future Muslim “mass contact.”

Nehru, stalking the campaign trail in 1937, made the mistake of refusing
to take the Muslim League and the communal problem seriously, insisting:

There are only two forces in the country, the Congress and the gov¬
ernment. ... To vote against the Congress candidate is to vote for
the continuance of British domination. ... It is the Congress alone
which is capable of fighting the government. The opponents of the
Congress are bound with each other by a community of interests.
Their demands have nothing to do with the masses. 26

I refuse to line up with the Congress,” Jinnah insisted, when he heard
Nehru’s simplistic analysis in Calcutta early in January. “There is a third
party in this country and that is the Muslims.” 27 A few days later Jinnah
publicly warned Nehru and the Congress to “leave the Muslims alone”;
hut sensing victory, Nehru refused to be intimidated and decided, instead of
hacking away from India’s Muslim electorate, to seek to convert the vast
mass of them to Congress’s platform. “Mr. Jinnah . . . objects to the Con¬
gress interfering with Muslim affairs in Bengal and calls upon the Congress
lo let Muslims alone. . . . Who are the Muslims? Apparently only those
who follow Mr. Jinnah and the Muslim League.” 28 “What does the Muslim
League stand for?” Nehru asked, with gratuitous insult and acerbity he
would long live to regret. “Does it stand for the independence of India, for
mili imperialism? I believe not. It represents a group of Muslims, no doubt
highly estimable persons, for functioning in the higher regions of the upper
middle classes and having no contacts with the Muslim masses and few

148 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

even with the Muslim lower middle class. May I suggest to Mr. Jinnah that
I come into greater touch with the Muslim masses than most of the mem¬
bers of the Muslim League.” 29

It would not be the last of Nehru’s political errors of judgment in his
dealings with Jinnah, but it was one of the most fatal mistakes he ever made
in a moment of hubris. More than Iqbal, it was Nehru who charted a new
mass strategy for the League, prodding and challenging Jinnah to leave the
drawing rooms of politics to reach down to the hundred million Muslims
who spent most of each day laboring in rural fields. There was, of course,
only one possible way for the League to stir that mass, to awaken it, and to
lure it to march behind Muslim leadership. The cry of Islam—in danger—of
din (religion) alone could emerge as the unique stand of the Muslim
I,tiague. “No common principle or policy binds them,” Nehru had taunted,
referring to Jinnah’s independent “party” in the assembly. And for Jinnah
lliis was as significant a turning point, traumatically triggered by public hu¬
miliation, as the Congress non-cooperation resolution rebuke he had sus¬
tained at Nagpur in 1920. Only, then his was the secular rational leadership,
.seeking in vain to reduce a “Mahatma” to mere “Mr.” Now Nehru had used
"Mr.” before Jinnah’s name as a sarcastic form of rebuke, for that title was
I lie badge of British-identity Jinnah appeared to epitomize, despite his
elaiins to Muslim leadership. It was a more scathing attack than Jayakar’s
bad been at the All-Parties Conference a decade earlier. Jawaharlal was
more eloquent than Jayakar, after all, and had reason to feel more confident
nl bis supreme power over the masses, more hopeful about Congress’s fu¬
ture, and more bitter about the pains and punishment of the past, for neither
bis lather nor his wife had lived to see his triumph, to hear the hoarse thun¬
der of millions of voices cry “Jawaharlalji-ki-jai” (“Victory to Honored Ja-
wuhurlur). lie, moreover, was a man of many moods and the victim of
strong passions, often swept from his mental moorings of sounder judgment
by a surging impulse of the moment. It was Nehru’s greatest weakness, a
fatal Haw in a man who aspired to political leadership over all of India and
indeed believed that he was “fit to rule . . . the world.” 30

Jinnah, however, never lost his temper except for calculated political ad¬
vantage. lie used anger as a barrister or an actor would, to sway his jury
audience, never from an uncontrollable flaring of passion. For personal pas¬
sion had all but died in him and was never to be rekindled. The hatred he
fell toward Nehru was cold, born of contempt rather than rage. “What can
I say to the busybody President of the Congress?” Jinnah remarked of
Nehru in an interview several months later. “He seems to carry the respon¬
sibility of the whole world on bis shoulders and must poke bis nose Into
everything except minding his own business." 111 As Congress president,

london-lucknow ( 1934 - 37 ) 149

Nehru called a national convention in Delhi that March, following the elec¬
tions, to decide whether in fact Congress would allow its successful candi¬
dates to take the provincial offices they had won when the new constitution
went into effect on April 1, 1937. For Jawaharlal this was another sore point
of pride, since he had often declaimed against that “charter of slavery” and
insisted he would never have anything to do with helping implement any
part of it. Gandhi, however, urged giving the constitution a try, as most
members of the Congress Working Committee wanted to do, and Nehru
bowed to their advice. He refused absolutely, however, to invite any elected
Muslim League or other non-Congress candidates to his conference, calling
it “a dangerous thing to revert to an all party attitude” and insisting that
Congress should not cooperate with “semi-imperialist groups.” 32

Khaliquzzaman, who belonged to Congress for two decades before
merging his Unity Board with the League in 1936, hoped that a Congress-
League coalition government, including himself, might be appointed to ad¬
minister the United Provinces. Muslim Rafi Kidwai, their leader of the Con¬
gress at this time, had been Motilal’s secretary and remained Jawaharlal’s
confidant in Nehru’s home province. Kidwai and Khaliquzzaman were old
friends, and it was hardly surprising, therefore, for them to discuss a coali¬
tion ministry with Kidwai promising Khaliquzzaman “two Muslim Leaguers
to join the Congress Ministry” prior to his election. 33 Nehru “turned down”
the League after his victory. Maulana Abul Kalam Azad was the only Muslim
on the Congress Working Committee and managed to wean the provincial
Ulema party away from its commitment to the League in mid-May of 1936.
Azad used the classic lures of a provincial cabinet office with all its seduc¬
tive perquisites to achieve that dramatic defection. He, of course, won
Nehru’s gratitude and trust and was to preside over the Congress through¬
out World War II, serving in Nehru’s first cabinet as minister of education.
But he won Jinnah’s undying enmity. To Jinnah, Azad’s political treachery
placed him beneath contempt. “This is war to the knife,” Jinnah remarked,
after learning of the Jamiat-ul-Ulemas flip-flop. 34

That July, Azad visited Lucknow and tried to negotiate a settlement
with Khaliquzzaman, offering to bring him into the United Provinces cabi¬
net if “The Muslim League group in the United Provinces Legislature shall
cease to function as a separate group,” its members all becoming “part of
the Congress Party,” the League’s provincial Parliamentary Board thus, in
effect, agreeing to “dissolve.” 35 Khaliq rightly read those terms as a “death
warrant” of the provincial party over which he presided and refused to
agree. Meanwhile, Nehru called upon Congress committees throughout
India to intensify recruitment among "the Muslim masses.”

Jinnah bail never liked the younger Ncliru but at this point lost all hope

150 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

of trying to reach any agreement with him, appealing instead to Gandhi
who had withdrawn from active politics to his Wardha ashram retreat.
That May, Jinnah sent a message to Gandhi through B. G. Kher, the leader
of the Congress in Bombay’s legislature and chief minister-designate there,
who had ashed Jinnah “to give him two members of his Muslim League to
join the Ministry.” 36 The League had done brilliantly in Bombay, capturing
twenty out of twenty-nine Muslim seats, and Kher had the good sense to
know that with Jinnah’s cooperation his administration would be a powerful
and efficient one; without it, a hopeless, thankless task. As to Jinnah’s re¬
quest that Gandhi personally enter negotiations to seek some sort of Hindu-
Muslim agreement nationwide, the Mahatma replied: “I wish I could do
.something but I am utterly helpless. My faith in unity is as bright as ever;
only I see no daylight out of the impenetrable darkness and, in such dis¬
tress. I cry out to God for light.” 37

The forthcoming session of the League was to be held in Lucknow, and
linnnh knew that his presidential address must either galvanize his party to
march toward a new destiny, or would serve as its death knell. He must
I inve sensed, moreover, that for him personally as well as for the League,
•line was running out. “He was always coughing,” Ispahani recalled, “smok¬
ing and coughing. We thought it just smoker’s cough’ or bronchitis. None
nl us realized how bad it was—until it was too late.” 38 He spent that sum¬
mer in Simla and Srinagar, Kashmir; the legal demands on his time in¬
creased with his growing fame as Muslim India’s premier advocate. Fatima
joined him on his trip to Kashmir, accompanying him virtually everywhere

I mm then on till the end of his life, as sister-confidante, nursemaid, sound¬
ing board, and delender-against-the-outside-world. He pleaded before the
|iiiiiinii and Kashmir high court in four cases—two criminal matters, two
‘I'll that summer. The most famous was the disputed marriage case of

II mil fa He gum v. the State, where Jinnah won his client’s appeal by force-
Iii11\ asserting his personal knowledge—“My Lord, I am the Authority 1”—as
an accurate interpreter of Islamic law. 39 His prestige in the community was
mioIi llait no one dared deny his claim, and, as usual, he won every case he
appealed.

Wherever Jinnah went that summer and early fall he invited Muslim
l< .iders lie met to come to Lucknow to attend the forthcoming League ses¬
sion, besides Shafi’s son-in-law, Mian Bashir Ahmad, other powerful non-
I league leaders, including the new premiers of the Punjab and Bengal,

I bilonist Sir Sikander I layal Khan (1892-1942) and Fazlnl Haq, also came to
l.ueknow m( Jinnah** behest; and before leaving that fateful session of the
l.oague they would agree lo join forces In what was about to become a re¬
vitalized milled Muslim movement, alarmed by Congress's vletorles and

LONDON-LUCKNOW (1934-37) 151

Nehru’s attempts to cut the mass base of their constituencies out from under
their very feet if they failed to respond with alacrity and unity to that clear
and present Hindu-atheist challenge.

Jinnah came by rail from Bombay, and as his train steamed into Cawn-
pore (Kanpur) Central Station “a vast crowd of Muslims mobbed his com¬
partment,” Jamil-ud-Din Ahmad recalled.

So exuberant was their enthusiasm and so fiery their determination to
resist Hindu aggression that Mr. Jinnah, otherwise calm and imper¬
turbable, was visibly moved. . . . His face wore a look of grim de¬
termination coupled with satisfaction that his people were aroused
at last. He spoke a few soothing words to pacify their inflamed pas¬
sions. Many Muslims, overcome by emotion, wept tears of joy to see
their leader who, they felt sure, would deliver them from bondage. 40

He arrived that evening, October 13, 1937, in Lucknow, where twenty-one
years before he had forged the pact that brought Congress and the League
together for the first time, heralding a bright era of Hindu-Muslim unity
that lasted little longer than World War I. This time storm clouds of conflict
darkened the horizon replacing that dawn, even as the pallor of age gave a
sepulchral look to Jinnah’s drawn and tired face. Khaliquzzaman and
Mahmudabad had gathered a small army of League volunteers to await him
at the station, and they led their president and his sister on a torchlight car¬
riage procession through the winding streets of the former capital of
Nawab-Viziers of Oudh, where many a Mughal emperor had journeyed on
bejewelled elephants. “There was a scuffle at one place between the volun¬
teers and some hot-headed Congressmen,” Khaliquzzaman reported, 41 noting
one of the opening salvos of what was soon to become the Congress-League
civil war, India’s political prelude to partition.

The Punjab’s Sir Sikander met with Jinnah and the League council next
morning, listing his demands for merging his powerful Unionist party forces
with the League. He essentially insisted upon the retention of his party’s
totally autonomous control over the Punjab, where the League had elected
only two out of eighty-six Muslim members to the legislature. Jinnah had
no option but to accept mighty landlord Sikander’s terms, gladly “stooping”
lo embrace and conquer that Punjabi baron. The pact concluded that Oc¬
tober 14 between British India’s two most powerful Muslims was approved
"with thunderous (.‘beers” by the council of the Muslim League. And well
should they have cheered, for without the Punjab, the League had no real
lieurtlimd of power, no core mound which to build its potential claim to
nationhood. Tin? Punjab was more Ilian just n bare Muslim majority prov¬
ince the Punjab meant Pakistan, made Pakistan possible, Bengal was too

L0Z JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

remote from the rest of Muslim India, as was Hyderabad. Sind, the North-
West Frontier, Baluchistan, and Kashmir, were islands of Muslim domi¬
nance, yet none was large enough, none strong enough to stand alone. The
Punjab was the mortar that integrated, unified, and bridged every one of
lliose other northwest provincial units. The Punjab was Pakistan’s first and
most important capital letter; and by luring Sir Sikander into his party’s
I« , nt, Jinnah raised the green flag with its giant “P” over the League’s Kaisar
Hugh ( Royal Garden’) outside Mahmudabad Plouse, signaling the birth of
an inchoate nation that was to remain in the womb of British India for pre¬
cisely one decade. Fazlul Haq closed ranks as well that fateful day in 1937,
adding a remote Eastern wing to the nation of South Asian Muslims now in
llm making. By sundown Jinnah knew that this second Lucknow pact he
liud negotiated would tear asunder the subcontinent just as his first pact had
almost led to independent but united rule for all of India. Soon Jawaharlal
and the Mahatma would know it as well. Soon the whole world would see
wlmt one seemingly frail Muslim, a minority-among-that-minority, white-
liaired and weary, could accomplish once he had set his mind to it. He had
been taunted, ignored, humiliated, and dismissed as insignificant long
enough. Now he had the premiers of the Punjab and Bengal to stand be¬
tween. 1 he next day he would speak for them all. Plis was going to be the
one mighty, magnified, final voice of Muslim South Asia.

I'o symbolize the dramatic change marked by this Lucknow session, not
onlv in the League’s platform and political position, but in Jinnah’s personal
commitment and final goal, he changed his attire, shedding the Saville Row
• nil in which he had arrived for a black Punjabi sherwani long coat, donned
l>\ the (,)uaicl-i-Azam (“Great Leader”) for the first time in public on the
morning ol October 15, 1937. He had spent the night at Mahmudabad
llomie; and after breakfasting with the raja was about to leave for the
| nicked meeting outside when his eye was attracted to a black Persian lamb
•’"P VV(,m by Nawab Mohammad Ismail Khan (1886-1958), one of the
i , 1 " , ;ilr,M provincial League leaders. He asked his friend if he might try on
llinl compact cap, which would soon be known throughout the world as a
|mmih cap, When he saw how handsome it looked over the white of his
.a lei nu ns in a mirror, he knew that it was just the headgear needed to give
his Muslim costume its crowning touch. At the 1916 Lucknow session over
which he had presided, Jinnah had worn a red fez, but since Ataturk ban¬
ished (lie fez from modern Turkey it was out of style. The Jinnah cap re¬
sembled the lez bill was softer, yet equally Islamic in its symbolic signifi¬
cance. It soon became ns famous as the flatter "Gandhi cap" of band-spun
eollmi. which the Mahatma and jawaharlal wore. That cap came to sym-

london-lucknow (1934-37) 153

bolize Congress membership, just as the Jinnah cap helped immediately to
distinguish and identify Muslim League leaders.

“This Session of the All-India Muslim League is one of the most critical
that has ever taken place during its existence,” Jinnah began, addressing the
estimated 5,000 Muslims from every province of India, crowded into the
huge tent erected in Mahmudabad’s garden.

The present leadership of the Congress, especially during the last 10
years, has been responsible for alienating the Musalmans of India
more and more, by pursuing a policy which is exclusively Hindu;
and since they have formed Governments in the six provinces where
they are in a majority, they have by their words, deeds and pro¬
gramme shown, more and more, that the Musalmans cannot expect
any justice or fair play at their hands. Wherever they were in a ma¬
jority and wherever it suited them, they refused to co-operate with
the Muslim League parties and demanded unconditional surrender
and the signing of their pledges.

To the Musalmans of India in every province, in every district, in
every tehsil, in every town, I say: your foremost duty is to formulate
a constructive and ameliorative programme of work for the people’s
welfare, and to devise ways and means for the social, economic and
political uplift of the Musalmans. . . . Organize yourselves, estab¬
lish your solidarity and complete unity. Equip yourselves as trained
and disciplined soldiers. Create the feeling of an esprit de corps, and
of comradeship amongst yourselves. Work loyally, honestly and for
the cause of your people and your country. No individual or people
can achieve anything without industry, suffering and sacrifice. There
are forces which may bully you, tyrannize over you and intimidate
you, and you may even have to suffer. But it is by going through this
crucible of the fire of persecution which may be levelled against you,
the tyranny that may be exercised, the threats and intimidations that
may unnerve you—it is by resisting, by overcoming, by facing these
disadvantages, hardships and suffering, and maintaining your true
convictions and loyalty, that a nation will emerge, worthy of its past
glory and history, and will live to make its future history greater and
more glorious not only in India, but in the annals of the world.
Eighty millions of Musalmans in India have nothing to fear. They
have their destiny in their hands, and as a well-knit, solid, organized,
united force can face any danger, and withstand any opposition to its
united front and wishes. There is a magic power in your own hands.
Take your vital decisions- they may be grave and momentous and
fur-reaching in llieir eonsoqueiiees. Think a hundred limes before

154

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

you take any decision, but once a decision is taken, stand by it as
one man. 42

As their great leader sat down every Muslim in that pandal rose to
cIkht, sensing a new League had been born, that by some “magic power”
Jinn ah had taken his most “grave and momentous” decision and knew its
consequences would be “far-reaching,” that there would be no turning back.
Not for him. Not for his party. The Jinnah who had come to Lucknow still
In limbo was torn between two worlds no longer. He left the old capital of
Mughal power firmly rooted in his Muslim party’s soil as its new Quaid-i-
Azarn.

Toward Lahore
( 1938 - 40 )

Building a mass party became the Quaid-i-Azam’s primary occupation dur¬
ing 1938 and 1939. From its winter session at Lucknow in 1937 to the spring
League meeting at Lahore in 1940, the Muslim League’s membership multi¬
plied from a few thousand to well over half a million. Membership dues
were dropped after Lucknow to half the purely nominal four-anna fee
charged by Congress, inviting any Muslim of India with two annas to his
name to join the All-India Muslim League. The League’s constitution was
revised in many other ways as well and modernized into a vehicle of mass
national capability under its inspiring new great leader.

At Lucknow, the League resolved to work toward “establishment in
India of full independence in the form of a federation of free democratic
States in which the rights and interests of the Musalmans and other minor¬
ities are adequately and effectively safeguarded.” 1 Congress was denounced
for imposing its own party anthem, “Bande Mataram” (“Hail to Thee,
Mother”), as the official new anthem of government, wherever Congress
ministries took provincial power, “in callous disregard of the feelings of
Muslims.” The League considered that “song not merely positively anti-
Islamic and idolatrous in its inspiration and ideas, but definitely subversive
of the growth of genuine nationalism in India.” 2 The League further re¬
solved to do everything possible to make Urdu, rather than Hindi, “the uni¬
versal language of India.” Finally, a comprehensive program of socioeco¬
nomic and educational reforms was proposed, committing the League “to
lix working hours for factory workers and other labourers; to fix minimum
wages; lo improve the housing hygienic condition of the labourers and make
provision for slum clearance; lo reduce rural and urban debts and abolish
usury; lo gruul a moratorium with regard In ail debts, whether decreed or

156 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

otherwise,” and ultimately “to devise measures for the attainment of full
independence and invite the co-operation of all political bodies working to
that end.” 3

The week of demanding meetings at Lucknow took its toll on Jinnah’s
health. He ran a fever on his way home to Bombay, and a hacking cough
continued to plague him. It was more than a month before he felt strong
enough to respond to letters from any provincial lieutenants, including
Malik Barkat Ali, the League’s only elected member of the Punjab legisla¬
ture. “I have not been well enough to tackle the various details that are
referred to,” Jinnah replied in late November 1937, referring to Barkat Ali’s
many complaints against Sir Sikander and his Unionist cohort.

Sir Sikander and the true nature of the Unionist-League “pact” would
remain Jinnah’s thorniest problem, for as Barkat, Iqbal, and others with po¬
litical awareness in Lahore plainly saw, the Unionists remained precisely as
they had been before Lucknow, Punjab’s ruling party. Sir Sikander assured
his Hindu and Sikh colleagues that Jinnah was now in his pocket, not the
other way round. Had Jinnah, in fact, “capitulated” to the Unionist chief
as the price of enhancing his League’s status? Was the cost of Sikander’s
cooperation really higher than the League stood to gain from his nominal
affiliation? Jinnah, at least, believed it was not; yet the Punjab conundrum
would not disappear, even after Sir Sikander’s death in December 1942.

Jinnah decided to shift the venue of his council’s April meeting from
Lahore to Calcutta, where he had been in late December 1937, to inaugurate
the All-India Muslim Students’ Federation. Bom out of a merger of the
Lucknow Muslim Students’ Conference with the Aligarh University Union
and All-Bengal Muslim Students’ League, that federation was organized by
Mohammad Noman (1914-72) of Aligarh. Noman had gone to Bombay to
invite Jinnah to preside over his federation’s first annual session. “To my
great surprise,” Noman recalled, “it did not take more than a minute to get
his consent. I immediately requested him to allow me to release the news
to the Press. He got up and said ‘Do it just now.’ . . . From Calcutta on¬
wards the Muslim students marched under his guidance.” 4 Jinnah and
Fatima stayed at Ispahani’s house in Calcutta, and some 300 Muslim stu¬
dents from the North-West Frontier province to Assam assembled to hear
Jinnah speak at 8:30 p.m. on December 29. He talked softly without dra¬
matic: gesture or emotion, explaining that at Lucknow, “I have only rung
the alarm bell. The bell is still ringing. But 1 do not set; the fire brigade. I
want yon to produce the fire brigade. And God willing, wo shall extinguish
the lire," 11 The most memorable of his .statements to that newly organized
Muslim lire brigade was Ilia! "We ilu not want lo be reduced to the position
of the Negroes <>l America." Jinnah now had the youthful muscle and cadre

TOWARD LAHORE (1938-40) 157

of energetic volunteers his League required. The older All-India Students’
Federation, which identified closely with Congress, branded the new Mus¬
lim federation “reactionary and communal.” The raja of Mahmudabad was
elected president of the All-India Muslim Students’ Federation, and Noman
served as general secretary. The federation’s constitution listed among its
objectives: to arouse political consciousness among the Muslim students and
to prepare them to take their proper share in the struggle for the freedom
of the country; to work for the advancement of the economic and social con¬
ditions of the Musalmans; and to popularise Islamic culture and studies
and to strengthen the Islamic religion and faith by combating anti-Islamic
forces.

Soon after returning to Bombay in January 1938, Jinnab entrained again
for Aligarh, where he received “a right royal reception” from admiring stu¬
dents, who insisted on hauling his carriage themselves from the station to
Aligarh campus three miles away. The Quaid-i-Azam delivered a more
eloquent than usual speech to his vociferously cheering audience in that
intellectual cradle of the Muslim League. “You, Mr. President, have said,
the Muslim is born free,” Jinnah began. “When was he free? In this country
at any rate we have been slaves for 150 years.” 6 This was the first time
Jinnah used the word “slave” in a public address, and he went on further
dramatizing the plight of Muslims. Since 1936, however, Jinnah assured his
wildly cheering audience, the Muslim League had revitalized itself, and
“has freed the Musalmans from the clutches of the British Government. But
now there is another power which claims to be the successor of the British
Government. Call it by whatever name you like, but it is Hindu and Hindu
Government.” He closed with the glowing promise that they were “gathering
the precious stones, rubies, sapphires and diamonds, the scattered energies
and talents of the Muslim community; and when you have got an artistic
jeweller to set them it will be a jewel which you will be proud of.” 7

In March 1938 Jawaharlal was succeeded as Congress president by Ben¬
gal’s Subhas Chandra Bose, only forty-one years of age and heroically fresh
from British detention. On the eve of passing his mantle of leadership to
Bose, Nehru wrote Jinnah: “We are eager to do everything in our power to
put an end to every misapprehension and to endeavour to solve every prob¬
lem that comes in the way of our developing our public life along right lines
and promoting the unity and progress of the Indian people.” 8 Nehru asked
Jinnah to “let me know what exactly are the points in dispute which require
consideration,” to which Jinnah replied, “But do you think that this matter
can he discussed, much, less solved, by and through correspondence?” 9
Jiiwalmrlal agreed thnl il was "always helpful lo discuss matters and prob¬
lems face III lace," but "Correspondence helps in IIiIn proeess and sometimes

158

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

is even preferable as it is more precise than talk. I trust therefore that you
will help in clarifying the position by telling us where we differ and how
you would like this difference to end.” 10 Jinnah, however, was most reluctant
lo be lured into written debate of differences, insisting it was “highly unde¬
sirable and most inappropriate,” trenchantly arguing: “You prefer talking
ut each other whereas I prefer talking to each other. Surely you know and
you ought to know what are the fundamental points in dispute.” 11

by rejecting Jawaharlal’s repeated appeal for an updated brief on the
Muslim argument, Jinnah was not merely saving vital energy when de¬
mands on his time had escalated from his own lieutenants. He was also hold¬
ing out till Gandhi was ready to invite him to talk, knowing that ultimately
I lie Mahatma would be called on to approve any formula accepted by his
Congress disciples, whether it was Jawaharlal, Subhas, Azad, Patel, or
I’lasad. All of them made regular pilgrimages to the Wardha ashram, but it
was Gandhi he wanted to deal with. By late February 1938 Gandhi himself
• lid write: that he had accepted Abul Kalam Azad as his guide and that
conversation should be opened in the first instance as between you and the
Mai liana Sahib. But in every case, regard me as at your disposal.” 12 But
luiiiali replied that I find that there is no change in your attitude and
mentality when you say you would be guided by Maulana Abul Kalam
Azad." 13

Jinnah insisted not only upon full recognition of his League as the “one
authoritative political body in British India representing all Muslims, but
lie demanded prior acceptance by Gandhi of his equivalent role as spokes¬
man lor all Hindus. From Congress’s perspective, neither position was ten¬
able- as Jinnah well knew. But what better way of avoiding debate? Recon-
< iliation with Congress was, after all, the last thing he wanted at this
l u, icluie. Nothing would do more to undermine his cause of uniting the
Muslim community against the clear and present danger of a “Hindu raj.”
Any form of Congress-League rapprochement in 1938, whether provincial
oi central, partial or even potential, would have taken the wind out of the
lull sails ol his League’s mass recruitment effort and dramatic growth. His
''"di e strategy was, indeed, based on rallying to his ranks every good Muslim
w ho I'earcd for the future of his faith in a land ruled by hostile Hindus. To
have agreed to swing his fragile craft round just as it was starting to pick
up speed under lull wind would have been suicidal to Muslim League pros-
l>*■< 'is. Jinnah might easily have negotiated the concession of a few seats in
die Bombay and other provincial cabinets, but he would certainly have lost
Pakistan in the process.

Nor should the degenerative ndlictinn of Jinimh's lungs be imderesti-
imiled III explaining Ills lohieluiur lo embark on u fresh round of negotla-

TOWARD LAHORE ( 1938-40 ) 159

tions. He became more testy as the coughing and discomfort increased. He
required more privacy, although his tolerance for crowds had never been
high, unless he was on stage, orating. “I shall be arriving on the 16th [April]
morning with Miss Jinnah by the mail,” Jinnah alerted Ispahani in the
spring of 1938, adding:

As to my reception, please see that some proper order is kept and
that I get home within a reasonable time, because these long pro¬
cessions, taking hours and hours, have a tremendous strain on one s
nerves and physical endurance. Therefore you must try and see that
I get home by 12 o’clock and have some rest at any rate in the after¬
noon. You must have read in the papers how during my tours to
Aligarh and Meerut, and other places, I suffered, which was not be¬
cause there was anything wrong with me but the irregularities and
over-strain told upon my health. 14

Nothing could have been more damaging to his plans for the League than to
permit rumors of his fragile health to surface in public. Personal well-being
was indispensable to political power. The least suspicion that Jinnah had
spots on his lungs that would never disappear would have shattered his
charisma. His only hope was to withdraw long enough behind private pala¬
tial barricades, to alternate interludes of visibility and frenzied activity with
longer periods of convalescence, alone with Fatima as his nursemaid.

To help assure him more privacy, Jinnah remodeled his palacious resi¬
dence” on Mount Pleasant Road atop Malabar Hill in Bombay, which was
on more than 15,000 square yards of wooded land. This residence was more
modern and sumptuous than the smaller bungalow on Little Gibbs Road,
where he and Ruttie had lived. He was also in the process of redecorating a
sumptuous new mansion he bought at No. 10 Aurangzeb Road in New
Delhi’s posh diplomatic suburb. That vast establishment, presently serving
as the Netherlands Embassy, was furnished by Waring & Gillow in much
the same style as his Plampstead home had been. A new car was, moreover,
required to go with the New Delhi residence, and Jinnah selected an ivory-
colored Packard Eight, with green leather upholstery, a rear curtain, cigar
lighter, and custom radio among its many extras. Ever-reliable Ispahani
handled all the ordering and paperwork through Khaitan Motor Co. Ltd. in
Calcutta, and the total cost of such an elegant imported vehicle then came
to only 7,100 rupees. Jinnah at this point was very well off financially. His
seven rented Hals in Mayfair assured him a handsome monthly income of
more than 2,000 rupees. His standard legal fee by then was 1,500 rupees a
diiy. tlie highest in India; and in addition he earned no less than 40,000
rupees In dividends from stocks alone in 1930, 16 relleeling the value of his

1(11)

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

t'vrr-grawing portfolio of shares in Indian industrial as well as commercial
enterprises. Jinnah was one of the elite group of Indian taxpayers whose
Income required a "super tax” as well as supplementary tax payments, and

' *. . ver y wealthy people was at times several years late in remitting

Ills taxes. s

At this time Jinnah was able to report that Muslim League “parties” were
limcllonlng actively within seven of British India’s eleven provincial legisla-
Imcs, “and the membership of those Parties is increasing every day.” 16

. . . Personally organized the League’s bloc within the central legislature,

and several League candidates had been elected by elections held since the
,,|l : otions of early 1937. "The Congress is a Hindu body mainly,”
eiinl out Jinnah from Calcutta’s floodlit amphitheater in mid-April of 1938.
"MnsHms have made it clear more than once that, besides the question of
religion, culture, language and personal laws, there is another question,
"i |n.illy ol life and death for them, and that their future destiny and fate are
il |, |>< ".l< , "( upon their securing definitely their political rights, their due
dune III the national life, the Government, and the administration of the
i’"""try. They will fight for it till the last ditch, and all the dreams and no-
llo "“ (,t tlimlu R«J must >>e abandoned. They will not be submerged or dom-

. .. " ikI the y wil1 not surrender so long as there is life in them.” Jinnah’s

strategy was to teach Congress to “respect and fear” the Muslim League,
•"III III 11‘iic'li his own followers to depend primarily on themselves, and to
"11)1)111/1! into one solid people.” 17 Muslims, of course, had good reasons to

. 1 "IW' h'vcil, and Jinnah and the League decided to collect all complaints

"gainst Congress ministries, to publish and publicize them as broadly as pos-
'il'l''. The League council appointed a special committee, under Raja Syed
Mohiimml Mohdi of Pirpur, to seek out such complaints in every Congress-

Province, gathering oral as well as written testimony from aggrieved
MiisHms, Raja Saheb submitted his report to Jinnah a month before the
I leagues annual December session.

<: "",l , il wrotc 111,(1 wired Jinnah by this time, anxiously seeking to ar-
'""re a personal meeting and hoping to have Azad at his side, but Jinnah
ri*1 use'll lo meet with Azad or any other non-League Muslim. The Mahatma
I hen agreed lo come to Jinnah’s house in Bombay alone on April 28, after

. . . "'ImsmI to break his journey from Calcutta at Wardha. Gandhi

"'m hed |i,limb's home before noon. The Mahatma and Qunid-1-Azam re-

. . . eleseli d alone for three and a half hours in late April 1938, during

Wlih'li Mine (hmilhi was too deprejad lo argue vigorously and merely “jotted

.. " f ll "' il ' R*lk. wlileii he transmitted lo fcviihnrln! mid Subhas

H"m-, I he slxlv nine yi'iii-iild Mahatma emerged from those Inllis atop
Miiliilnir I llll even min i' iltipreiiml, writing In Jawnliitrlnlt

TOWARD LAHORE ( 1938 - 40 ) '^1

I am carrying on, but it is galling to me to think that I have lost the
self-confidence that I possessed only a month ago. ... I have men¬
tioned this to help you to examine the proposals on their merits. . . .

You will not hesitate summarily to reject it if it does not commend
itself to you. In this matter you will have to give the lead. 18
Nehru did, in fact, turn over that task to Congress President Bose, who
came to Bombay and met with Jinnah in early May. But those talks resolved
nothing, only making the growing distance between Congress and the
League more publicly apparent. Jinnah moved forward with his plans for
converting the League organizationally into a mirror-image of the Congress.
He appointed his own Working Committee “High Command,” which met
in Bombay on June 4, 1938. 19 It was a strong committee and included Si-
kander, Fazlul Haq, Khaliquzzaman, and Liaquat Ali. They helped Jinnah
magnify the League’s status, giving it a “shadow cabinet’ like that of Con¬
gress or the British Labour party.

Nehru sailed from Bombay just two days before the League s High
Command met and reached England before the end of June, where he
spent a weekend with Clement Attlee, Stafford Cripps, Aneurin Bevin,
Harold Laski, and other members of Labour’s shadow cabinet, to discuss
“the means by which the next Labour government would transfer power”
to India. 20 V. K. Krishna Menon (b. 1896), Nehru’s London host, close
friend, and publisher, had been one of Laski s disciples at the London
School of Economics, and he joined Jawaharlal and his daughter Indira for
that fateful weekend at Cripps’s country house, Filkins, where so much of
India’s subsequent political future was charted. With the Spanish Civil War
in full blaze and Chamberlain’s government so impotent in the face of
mounting Nazi atrocities, Labour was confident that its turn at the helm of
Westminster could not be delayed much longer. Both at Filkins and in sub¬
sequent interviews Nehru was very outspoken in his criticism of Chamber¬
lain’s government. “British foreign policy is entirely reactionary and is aiding
fascist aggression,” he insisted. “As such, it is bringing war nearer, whatever
its professions may be. I feel India must reiterate firmly what it has already
declared, that it will oppose an imperialist war.” 21

These outspoken attacks against every policy of Chamberlains gov¬
ernment helped make British administrators much more sympathetic and
receptive to Jinnah than they had been since the first Round Table confer¬
ence. | innah returned to Simla that August for the Central Assembly’s ses¬
sion and acting viceroy Lord Brabourne, who had been sent to India first
us governor ol Bombay and then of Bengal, invited Jinnah and soon after
Slkuniler to meet with him. 'Hull crucial, secret summit with leaders of
Muslim India sealed the tale ol' the still unlmplomontod "federation" of

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

autonomous British provinces and princely states that was to have been the
keystone of the Government of India Act of 1935. Secretary of State Lord
'Zetland (1935-40), reported Brabourne’s account to him of that important
interview on Tuesday evening, August 16, 1938: “Jinnah-ended up with
I lie startling suggestion that we should keep the centre as it was now; that
wr should make friends with the Muslims by protecting them in the Con-
gicss I rovinces and that if we did that, the Muslims would protect us at
die Centrel" 22 Sir Sikander seconded Jinnab’s position, arguing that “we
arc mad to go ahead with the Federation scheme which is obviously play-
l"K 2 1 1 'tight into the hands of Congress and that the Muslims, given a fair
deal by us, would stand by us through thick and thin.” 23 That reassurance
was crucial to Britain on the eve of its most difficult war, for the British
Indian Army still depended heavily on Muslim troops, and the Punjab re¬
mained her most fertile source of fresh recruits.

Jimmh helped carry enough votes to allow the government to enact its
legisatlon. More importantly, however, his calm voice in support of martial
loyally on the eve of war may well have tipped the balance toward British
survival in India over the next decade; for Subhas Bose soon sided openly
willi die Axis powers, and with Nehru speaking as he did in London and
I aiiulhi withdrawing his support entirely once the war got underway, there
was no Congress leader in Britain’s corner. Jinnah inquired rhetorically of
Ills legislative colleagues, “Do you want me to instigate every member of
lln- army from the sepoy upwards to an officer . . . that they should com-
mll acts of insubordination? I am unable to do so. ... If I instigate the
.limy to-day, it will be only disastrous to me and not to the opponent whom
I want In hit.” 2 ' 1 He did not name his opponent. He did not have to. Con¬
i',mss laid waited too long to come to terms with him. Jinnah was back in
lighting form-in Great Britain’s corner-only this time also as Quaid-i-Azam
"I Ills future Muslim nation.

Wlmi made him decide to abandon hope of reconciliation with the Con-
No sin g ,(: incident perhaps, but the cumulative weight of countless
'"Mills, slights, and disagreements added to the pressures of time and
11 W; '""giess insults, stupidity, negligence, venality, genuine and imagined
•'"li Muslim feeling, fatigue, frustration, fears, doubts, hopes, shattered
dn auis, passions turned to ashes, pride-all contributed to the change in
Jimiali. I to would not go softly, or silently, into that dark night. “The strug¬
gle Hint wo are carrying on is not merely for loaves and fishes, ministerships
mid jobs, nor are we opposed to the economic, social, and educational uplift
ol our countrymen ns it is falsely alleged,” Jinnah told the Sind provincial
l.engue in I lie city of Ills birth on October S, 1938, an There Jimiali revealed
more of Ills motivation for abandoning hope of Hindu Muslim unity, at least

163

TOWARD LAHORE ( 1938-40)

with the present Congress leadership in power, than he had at any other
time during that year of speeches. For what could be more offensive, after
all, to a man of his sensibilities and refinements, than to find himself faced
with a rabble of ill-clad, untrained “Hindu officials” in province after prov¬
ince-including Bombay and Sind? What better reason for him to return to
the side of his British friends and colleagues?

“It is no use relying upon any one else,” Jinnah told his Muslim League
followers in Karachi, the future capital of Pakistan. “We must stand on our
own inherent strength and build up our own power and forge sanctions
behind our decisions. ... If the Musalmans are going to be defeated in
their national goal and aspirations it will only be by the betrayal of the
Musalmans among us as it has happened in the past.” 26 This was Jinnah’s
first public reference to his recently resolved “national goal” for party and
people. Nor was it a vagrant, unconsidered remark. He was not quite ready
to reveal his long-range strategy, for there was still much organizational
work and institution building to be done. But his battle plans were drawn,
and surely he protested too much when he added with unconscious irony:
“I wish to make it clear that I am not fighting the Hindu community as
such nor have I any quarrel with the Hindus generally for I have many
personal friends amongst them.” 27 Less than six months earlier Iqbal had
succumbed to the fatal lung disease that also claimed Jinnah’s life a decade
later. Sir Sikander alone remained his potential rival to lead the nascent
Muslim nation. Jinnah devoted himself unstintingly to the labor of building
the League by uniting all Muslims, convinced that he alone could properly
guide his “children” out of bondage to Hindudom and the “outcaste status
to which his Brahman rivals traditionally relegated all Muslims.

On the morning of October 9, 1938, Karachi’s District Board formally
welcomed the Muslim League and its leaders. Sir Sikander hoisted the
League’s green flag, with its silver crescent moon and star, after which
Jinnah was presented with an Urdu address on a silver tray, Karachi s key
to its city. “It is a matter of pride for the Town of Karachi that Mr. Jinnah,
a person of such great eminence and a well-known statesman, should have
been born and bred within her embrace,” began that address. He was also
called the “great Guide and Commander of the Muslim Community.” 28 That
afternoon, Jinnah met with Sikander, Fazlul Haq, and Khan Bahadur Allah
Bux (Bakhsh), United party premier of Sind, who though a Muslim had
earlier refused lo join forces with the League. Bux’s coalition government
relied mostly upon Congress support. Jinnah was determined to add Sind
to the League's slill paltry provincial list, which consisted as yet only of
Bengal mid the rather anomalous Punjab, both i" luct coalitions, Alter his
arrival 1" Karachi on October 7. Jliiimb laid mol with no fewer than twenty

104

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

Muslim members of the multifactional Assembly, convincing them all to
join the League and finally persuading-or so he believed-Allah Bux to join
Ills party as well.

11 was agreed that one solid party of the Muslim members of the Sind
Legislative Assembly should be formed as Muslim League Party,” Jinnah
reported in his irate statements the Associated Press just a few days later. 29
Allah Bux and all his Muslim ministers promised to resign, Jinnah explained,
I lam a provincial League party election was to have been held to choose
the new leader by “unanimous vote,” or “in default he should be nominated
l>v Mr. Jinnah and the party would abide by his choice.” Early the next
morning, however, Jinnah learned that Sind’s leader of the Congress party
had wired Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel (1875-1950), president of the All-
Indian Congress Parliamentary Board, to alert him to the League’s inten¬
tions. and “When we met at 11 o’clock on the 12th of October 1938 much
•° ,l,( ' astonishment of every one Khan Bahadur Allah Bux backed out of
I lie agreement. Shocked by such “gross breach of faith in resiling,” Jinnah
•.Hll I cl I it worth fighting for “unity at any cost” and sent his closest Sind
deputy, Haji Sir Abdullah Haroon (1872—1942), to appeal that night to
Allah Bux at home but concluded next morning that the latter “was in the
Iiiinds ol the Congress Party.” It was a most bitter pill for Jinnah to swallow.
M<- had labored long and hard for an independent province of Sind, since
well before the first Round Table conference, being convinced that as a
Muslim majority province it would surely elect a Muslim League govern-
uieni. Now the Sardar, Congress’s strong man, the shrewd organizational
ham I beneath Nehru’s idealistic velvet glove, had snatched this plum from
Jhmah s lips just as he was about to savor its sweetness.

lie would never forget, or forgive, Sardar Patel for having “cheated”
lilm ol Sind, robbing” his home province out from under him at the very
meeting of the League. “You had almost achieved a triumph but the dogs
■ •I I lie Congress have snatched from you the cup of victory,” wrote Malik
Mm Uut as soon as he heard the had news. “I have not the least doubt that
I he Mussulmans of Sindh will teach a lesson this traitor Allah Bakhsh.” 80
Muklisli (Bux) was murdered in May of 1943 and his assassin never caught.

I he raja ol Pirpur submitted his Report in November 1938. It was pub¬
lished in Delhi by Liaquat Ali Khan for the League, a green pamphlet with
I lie Muslim Leagues (lag on its cover. Its “general survey” opening was
obviously approved, if not drafted, by Jinnah personally. “The communal
problem In India has long defied settlement,” it began.

In our bumble opinion, however, the problem Is a real one and the

sooner It Is solved the better will II be for I ho country . . . the corn

TOWARD LAHORE (1938-40) 165

munal problem can only be solved when India is free: India can only
be free when the communal problem is solved. Such a circle can lead
us nowhere and will only make the country a prey to any foreign
exploiter.

The communal problem remains unsettled not because of the com-
munalism of the minorities, but because of the communalism of the
majorities. 31

The report went on to list specific instances of Hindu-Muslim conflict in
most of the Congress-ruled provinces after late 1937. Official Congress poli¬
cies were blamed for destruction and harm to Muslim property and lives,
though not much detailed evidence could be recorded in that slim pamphlet.

On December 10, 1938, Maulana Mazharuddin Ahmad, editor of the
Muslim Delhi daily Al-Aman, proposed in his newspaper that Jinnah be
called Quaid-i-Azam by all Muslims, in recognition of his status as a great
leader. At the annual meeting of the League later that month, Jinnah’s new
title would be enthusiastically shouted for the first time by the multitudes
who waited to greet him at Patna’s City Railway Station. The seven-mile
journey from the Patna station to the beautiful green silk-decked pandal in
which the League held its three-day session was lined with cheering Mus¬
lims, waving flags and shouting “Quaid-i-Azam Zinbabad!” (“Victory to our
Great Leader!”). Syed Abdul Aziz, the popular leader of Bihar’s United
party, chaired the reception committee that spared neither money nor time
in organizing that most festive gathering of tens of thousands in the heart
of one of Hindu India’s ancient bastions of culture and power, where in the
sixth century b.c. Buddha had taught his noble truths of the all-pervasive
nature of sorrow and universal transience, and several centuries later the
Mauryan Emperor Ashoka (“Sorrowless”) echoed the message of pain, ad¬
vocating love ( ahimsa ) and law ( dharma) as its best antidotes.

“The Congress has now, you must be aware, killed every hope of Hindu-
Muslim settlement in the right royal fashion of Fascism,” said Quaid-i-Azam,
speaking extempore on the night of December 26, 1938, to his enthusiastic
audience.

The Congress High Command makes the preposterous claim that
they are entitled to speak on behalf of the whole of India, that they
alone are capable of delivering the goods. Others are asked to accept
the gift as from a mighty sovereign. The Congress High Command
declares that they will redress the grievances of the Muslims, and
I hey expect the Muslims to accept the declaration. I want to make it
plain lo all concerned that we Muslims want no gifts. The Muslims
want no couuommIoun. We, Muslims of India, have made up our mind

100

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

to secure our full rights, but we shall have them as rights. . . . The
Congress is nothing but a Hindu body. That is the truth and the Con¬
i’' 1 ' 031 '' leaders know it. The presence of a few Muslims, the few misled
and misguided ones, and the few who are there with ulterior motives,
does not, cannot, make it a national body. I challenge anybody to
deny that the Congress is not mainly a Hindu body. I ask, does the
Congress represent the Muslim?

Who is the genius behind it? Mr. Gandhi. I have no hesitation in say¬
ing that it is Mr. Gandhi who is destroying the ideal with which the
(.(ingress was started. He is the one man responsible for turning the
< .(ingress into an instrument for the revival of Hinduism. His ideal is
lo revive the Hindu religion and establish Hindu Raj in this Country,
ami he is utilizing the Congress to further this object. . . . To-day
(he Hindu mentality, the Hindu outlook, is being carefully nurtured,
ami Muslims are being forced to accept these new conditions and to
.submit to the orders of the Congress leaders. 32

II had been exactly eighteen years since “Mahatma" Gandhi’s triumph at
Nagpur, and there stood “Quaid-i-Azam” Jinnah on even more sacred Hindu
soil, during not only to call him “Mr.” again but openly blaming him for
destroying Congress. What sweeter triumph, what more" satisfying retribu¬
tion could be have staged? It was not Congress he addressed, of course, yet
Ills own All-India Muslim League attracted as large, and as loudly cheering,
II crowd lo Patna as the Mahatma had commanded in Nagpur. This was
Jtnuuhs most vituperative public attack against Gandhi, and as he con-
Hnuod that night he broadened it to include Nehru, Bose, Prasad, and Patel,
win mug his followers not to believe Congress assurances that it would never
Iicirpl their federation proposed by the constitution of 1935.

Tim second day of the Patna session was devoted primarily to discussing
Hcsnlnlion IV, authorizing the Working Committee of the League to resort
In "direct action,“ if and when it decided to do so, to “redress” the griev¬
ance:. and In “protect” the “elementary rights of the Musalmans” of Bihar,

1 l " ill '‘ l Provinces, and the Central Provinces, threeHmdu-majority prov¬
inces Irom which most "atrocities” against Muslims had been reported. That
itnunlmimsly carried resolution was what Jinnah called a “revolutionary . . .
departure from the past” for until this juncture tile League “had been
wedded only to the policy of constitutional progress.” 35 Though ho was au-
dioil/cd |<> call for direct action, (,)uuid-i-A/aai “pleaded for patience, and
astnl Muslims to organize the League so that all the 90 million Muslims

. .>«> llll,l, ' r ll » banner," Much of the League's third day In Patna

was devoted In (lehallng the Palestine resolution, It warned the British gov¬
ernment "forthwith | to I slap the Influx OI jews Into Palestine," dedal

TOWARD LAHORE ( 1938-40 ) 167

ing “that the problem of Palestine is the problem of Muslims of the whole
world; and if the British Government fails to do justice to the Arabs . . .
Indian Muslims . . . will be prepared to make any sacrifice ... to save
the Arabs from British exploitation and Jewish usurpation.” In discussing
this resolution, Abdul Sattar Khairi “said that both the British and the
Hindus were Jews to Muslims, that is, their enemies. In India, Mr. Gandhi
was the leader of the Hindu Jews.” 34 Another League delegate, Abdul
Khaliq, insisted that “The real Jews of the West were the British, and those
of the East were the Hindus, and both were the sons of Shylock.” Jinnah
intervened at that point, persuading Khaliq to “withdraw” his “sons of Shy-
lock” remark and insisting that “such statements were not in keeping with
the dignity and prestige of the League.” 35

At Patna the Muslim League resolved to create a Muslim womens sub¬
committee headed by Fatima Jinnah, which would include thirty leading
women from every province as well as from Delhi. Several women on that
committee, like Begum Shah Nawaz, all their lives had been emancipated
from the crippling inhibitions of traditional Islamic purdah and were among
the most brilliant, attractive leaders of modern India. A graduate of Queen
Mary’s College in Lahore and chosen as a delegate to London’s three Round
Table conferences. Begum Shah Nawaz was the first and only woman to
serve on the Muslim League’s council from 1931 to 1937, when she drew
Jinnah’s attention to this serious gap in League membership and appeal. He
then nominated a Muslim women’s central committee, at the other end of
whose spectrum were women like Begum Nawab Siddique Ali Khan of
Nagpur who recalled:

I met the Quaid-i-Azam in 1938 at Patna. ... I used to wear burqa
in those days. At the suggestion of my husband I put off the burqa
for the first time in my life before meeting the Quaid-i-Azam. ... I
knew that he was an extremely well-dressed person who was greatly
time-conscious. ... I had an unknown fear of him. When I entered
the drawing room, my eyes were fixed on the floor and my feet were
trembling. As I looked up, I saw the Quaid-i-Azam standing before
me . . . [he] stretched his hand for a hand-shake. I slightly bowed
down and shook hands. My husband was very happy to see this, as
he knew that I was the daughter of a renowed Qazi and had strong
religious convictions; hence he was skeptical if I would shake
hands. 30

Many conversativc delegates at Patna protested loudly against the resolu¬
tion to organize Muslim women, fearing it would put an end to “purdah,
which, they said, was sacred lo Islam." :,v jinnah, however, intervened in
support of I lie new subcommittee, diplomatically arguing, slricl -eonslruc

I(IH

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

limiisl barrister that he was, that "the resolution only stated that women
* 11,11 “ be K iven an opportunity to organize themselves under the League
in ortlcr to support it.”

Just as the League was becoming more unified, Congress was confronted
wilh II struggle for power between militant young president, Subhas
< ihandra Bose, and its conservative old guard led by Gandhi. Bose would
Jinnnli, be hailed as Netaji ("Great Leader”) by his growing army of
in 1 lowers, especially young Bengali students who shared none of Gandhi’s
aversion to violent tactics or martial action. When Gandhi decided it would
In' best for Congress to replace Bose in 1939 with Maulana Azad, Pattabhi
Nlli.r.imnyyn, or Jawaharlal, Netaji opted to fight for the honor of a second
lei in ns president. It was Congress's first internal election battle, and Bose
won, mustering 1,580 votes to Sitaramayya's 1,377. He, however, found it
lj"|30SSible lo enjoy the power he had won; he received no cooperation from
lliu mrmben of the Working Committee, and his health broke down to-
I'.' lhci' with the sudden collapse of support from his party’s machine. So
Dos.- resigned and started his own radical Forward Bloc party. Soon after
I lie war began lie was imprisoned by the British, escaped to Germany, and

..<’ "> J a P«n> where he led his Indian National Army in martial opposi-

II"" I" III.' raj. Dr. Rajendra Prasad, Gandhi’s loyal Bihar disciple, replaced
as Congress president.

Tl"' Aga Khan visited Gandhi in January 1939, appealing to him to con-
I lure ''Congress to settle with Jinnah if it is at all possible.” 38 Gandhi was
""Hug III try to reopen negotiations with the League and urged Nehru to
seel Information from Jinnah about the so-called atrocities in Congress
I toiv",res, Jinnah encouraged Fazlul Haq to compile and publish charges
"I Muslim Sufferings under Congress Rule," which came to light before

. . . 1,1 1839 and Iistcd h> grim detail more than 100 reports from Bihar,

"" ilri1 P'oviiicos, and the Central Provinces of Muslims who were vio-
Irullv "Ilucked, killed, or looted between July 1937 and August 1939. In all
"I Ihrsc cases local officials were charged with aiding Hindus and ignoring
iIh complm'iils or erics of Muslims under attack. The noted causes of Hindu-
M"sl"" riots were the same as they had always been-conflicts over land,
niw slaughter, forms of worship antipathetical to one or the other religion’s
bi’l'dls "Illy tins time police were controlled by Congress Hindus rather
British Christians. During the Muslim festival of Id on February 1,
11)31). lor example, in Bihar’s Kurwun, Barara, Kaltha, Nayagaon, Hasnauli,’
Mur II in u mill Muchhil riots occurred, each of which was .supposedly ini-

.. •’y»u"ul I llndu mob" attacking Muslims "assembled for Id prayer

III III" niosi|iui," when' limy ..perforin that day's ritual cow sacrifice.

Al MIMIC places III.' 11liuIn mull allegedly prevnuletl Muslims I..arrylng

169

TOWARD LAHORE ( 1938-40 )

out their sacrifice by force, at others they burned or robbed Muslim homes
and crops while their owners were at prayer, elsewhere they attacked after
the sacrifice ended, reportedly shouting “Gandhi Ki Jai” before killing or
injuring the sacrifices. In many villages, Muslim butchers were forced out
of business, and “Muslims were coerced into giving up beef-eating.” Some¬
times raucous marriage parties were the spur, at others it was noisy prayers
or the abduction of women. There were reasons enough for conflict in most
Indian villages at any time of year. Fazlul Haq’s report charged officialdom,
however, with consistently taking only one side in such perennial struggles.
“A Police Officer took the thumb impression of a Muslim on an ‘agreement’
waiving the right to perform cow-sacrifice,” in Gauspur, for example. “This
Muslim and another were subsequently falsely prosecuted.” 39

Some Grievances of the Muslims, 1938-1939, a third report similar to
the Pirpur and Fazlul Haq compilations, was published late in 1939 by the
Publicity Committee of the Bihar Provincial Muslim League under the
chairmanship of Mr. S. M. Shareef of Patna. Confining itself to reports of
atrocities against Muslims committed in Bihar, this Shareef report was far
more detailed and extensive than both previous ones on which it was based.
Some ninety “typical examples of oppression” were detailed in this report,
which was studied and recommended to Congress leaders by senior Muslim
advocate Khurshad Hasnan of Patna’s high court, as affording “opportunity
to make enquiries about the correctness or otherwise of the incidents men¬
tioned.” 40

As reports of minority persecution coupled with British official indiffer¬
ence mounted, Jinnah grew more frustrated and angry at his so-called
British allies, fearing perhaps that Lord Brabourne’s unexpected death of
cancer early in 1939 left him without any effective support in New Delhi.
Lord Linlithgow, who still had more than a year left to his viceregal term,
seemed from Jinnah’s perspective partial to Gandhi and was strongly com¬
mitted to implementing the federation capstone of the Act of 1935 he per¬
sonally had done so much to formulate. This could be adopted only by a
united India, hence Viceroy Linlithgow stressed in every major address his
“deep conviction that upon unity depends the position and prestige of India
before the nations, and her capacity to take her due place in the world.” 41

Sir Sikander’s Unionist party of Punjabi Hindus, Muslims, and Sikhs all
pulling together, however, was Linlithgow’s provincial model of the federal
unity he envisioned at the center, rather than anything Jinnah or his League
represented. Given the Punjab’s primacy in any British war, moreover,
Linlithgow was careful to keep Sir Sikander as happy as possible, courting
and Haltering him with hospitality whenever lie could, and receiving .in re¬
turn repealed asMiiranee that the Punjab would always remain Britain’s

170

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

sword. More than a hundred million rupees were expended annually by
I lie British raj on martial pay, pensions, and stores in the Punjab alone.
Jiuuah now felt threatened by Linlithgow as well as by Sikander. Fearing
1,1111 oadi might abandon him for perfectly practical political reasons, Jinnah
decided with regard to a proposed finance bill in March 1939 to reverse
himself once again, if only to remind these two how important his continued
support remained to them both.

Sir, I cannot possibly approve of the Budget as it has been presented
Id us, because we have no lot or share in it. Now, Sir, the position of

I lie All-India Muslim League Party in this House is a very peculiar
one. 1'ortunately or unfortunately, we hold the balance in the House.

II we are supporting the Government, then I think the Finance Mem¬
ber can safely pilot this Bill to his satisfaction and he can carry this
Bill without a comma of it being altered. . . . Sir, in the past we
Imve been following the principle that if the Government brought in a
measure which was really for the good of the people, then we would
support it. . . . But, Sir, I see now that that policy must be altered.

. . . Why do you expect us, I ask the Government, to draw the chest¬
nuts out of the fire on your behalf? Why do you expect us to continue

10 be subservient on the specious pleas which you put forward before
us? 42

11 was Jinnah s most forthright explanation of the policy of mutual “sup-
I ,( " I ' «»d the British central government adopted in 1938. He was, how-
'■vi i , open in warning Congress not to misread his message to government,
wliirli ended with a curt, “You may go on your own way.” “On the other
band, as regards the Congress Party,” Jinnah continued, “the Congress Party

1,01 " ll,v hostile to the Muslim League but they are inimical. Therefore, I
• iv Id them that cooperation between you and us is not possible. . . . But
Irl me loll you—and I tell both of you—that you alone or this organisation
nluiir or both combined will never succeed in destroying our souls. You will
new-i be able to destroy that culture which we have inherited, the Islamic
‘"llu"\ “nd that spirit will live, is going to live and has lived. You may
overpower us; you may oppress us; and you can do your worst. But we have
eome lo the conclusion and we have now made a grim resolve that we shall
g“ down, i! wo have to go down, fighting.” 43

Al this dangerous time Jinnah seems to have sensed his own perilous

.. as well, lor on May 30, 1939, he signed his last will and testament,

appointing I'atiinu. Lhujnut Ali Khan, and his Bombay solicitor, Mahomed
Alii ClmlwalJii. joint executors and trustees of his estate. "All shares stocks
mill securities and current accounts now standing in the mime of my sister
I'lillimi Jlnmili me liei absolute properly. I have given them nil lo her by

TOWARD LAHORE ( 1938-40 ) 171

way of gifts during my life time and I confirm the same, and she can dispose
them of [sic] in any manner she pleases as her absolute property.” 44 He also
left her his houses and their contents, his cars, and a lifetime income of
2,000 rupees a month to be paid from his other properties. To his three
other sisters, Rahemat Cassimbhoy Jamal, Mariam Abdinbhoy Peerbhoy, and
Shareen Jinnah he left a living of 100 rupees a month, as he did to his
brother Ahmed. For his daughter (not named in the will), Jinnah set apart
200,000 rupees to be invested in order to provide her with a living, “which
will at 6% bring in income of Rs 1000/—,” proving that financially at least
he was most unorthodox in never adopting Islam’s strict prohibition against
charging or accepting any interest. After his daughter’s death, the 200,000-
rupee corpus was “to be divided equally between her children males or fe¬
males,” though if she had no children that sum would revert to Jinnah’s
residuary estate to be equally divided among Alighar [sic] University,
Peshawar’s Islamic College, and the Sindh Madressa of Karachi. Jinnah also
left 50,000 rupees to the University of Bombay, and 25,000 each to Bombay’s
Anjuman-i-Islam School and the Arabic College of Delhi 45

On September 3, 1939, Lord Linlithgow broadcast the news of Ger¬
many’s invasion of Poland. Linlithgow met with Gandhi for almost two
hours the following day, after which the viceroy saw Jinnah. Sikander,
jealous at not having been invited to the viceregal mansion as well, sent a
message asking Linlithgow “that nothing should be done to inflate Jinnah
or make him more difficult to deal with. Sikandar [sic] also repeated what
he had already said in public, that the Punjab and Bengal were wholly be¬
hind the Government in the prosecution of the war whatever Jinnah and
his friends might say.” 46 Jinnah “regretted” Sikander’s attempt to “rush in
front of his colleagues in the Muslim League to pledge co-operation” and
cautioned Linlithgow that Sir Sikander alone “could not deliver the goods.”
Jinnah appealed to the viceroy for “something positive” to take back to his
party to help him rally Muslim support for the war. Asked if he wanted
Congress ministries thrown out, Jinnah replied, “Yes! Turn them out at
once. Nothing else will bring them to their senses. . . . They will never
stand by you.” 47 During this conversation on September 4, 1939, moreover,
Jinnah revealed to the viceroy that he now believed the only ultimate po¬
litical solution for India “lay in partition.”

Gandhi initially assured the viceroy of his “full and unconditional” per¬
sonal support in the war, speaking “with an English heart,” 48 but then ex¬
plained that he could not commit Congress. Nor would the Mahatma’s posi¬
tion lie endorsed cither by Nehru or the Working Committee. Linlithgow
read King, (Jeorge's message to both houses ol Delhi's legislature on Sep¬
tember I I 1931), explaining llull "Ihe compulsion ol the present international

172

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

situation” required suspension of all preparations for federation, while re¬
taining that idea “as our objective.” India’s princes had, in fact, proved
reluctant to commit themselves to federation of any kind, with less than
two-fifths having expressed willingness to participate in the 1935 scheme
that was to have given them one-third of the seats in the Legislature’s lower
house and two-fifths of all seats in the upper house. Congress worked hard
nl seeking to politicize states, to democratize their representation, which
iundo Jinnah’s League all the more intransigent toward the federation “um¬
brella" that had begun to sound like just one more “Hindu raj” trap set for
Muslims.

Nehru was in China when the war started. He returned to join the Con¬
gress Working Committee, chairing its three-man war committee that in¬
cluded Sardar Patel and Maulana Azad. On September 11, Nehru went to
Wurdha to draft the Committee’s response to the viceroy’s declarations. A
"corrected draft,” rewritten next day, was released to the press on Septem¬
ber 14 as the Working Committee’s Resolution on India and the War. 49
"(Congress has repeatedly declared its entire disapproval of the ideology and
practice of fascism and Nazism and their glorification of war and violence
unci the suppression of the human spirit. ... If the war is to defend the
status quo, imperialist possessions, colonies, vested interests and privileges,
llien India can have nothing to do with it.” 50 Linlithgow wrote Zetland, re-
porling on the Congress resolution Jawaharlal had drafted, “It is a tragedy
In many ways that at a time such as this we should have in so important a
position a doctrinaire like Nehru with his amateur knowledge of foreign
polities and of the international stage.” 51 They both knew that “the un¬
known quantity” concerning the war was Gandhi, and on September 26
I inlilbgow invited the Mahatma to see him.

"I miii off to Simla again,” Gandhi wrote Jawaharlal, modestly adding: “I
ro only lo act as intermediary. You will send me instructions if any. I do
Impe you will be ready to answer invitation, if it comes. Love. Bapu.” 52
Aboard bis train to Simla on September 25, Gandhi revealed his change of
heart'.

My personal reaction towards this war is one of greater horror than
ever before. I was not so disconsolate before as I am today. But the
greater horror would prevent me today from becoming the self-
appointed recruiting sergeant that 1 had become during the last war.
And yet, strange as il may appear, my sympathies are wholly with
I Ik* Allies, . , , Hut assuming tlmt God bus endowed me with full
powers (which lie never does), I would nl once ask the English to
lay down arms, lien nil llielr vassals, take pride in being milled "1.111le
Mnglitiideis” and defy nil tla* InUilltuiimiN nl the world to do llielr

TOWARD LAHORE ( 1938-40 )

worst. Englishmen will then die unresistingly and go down to history
as heroes of non-violence. I would further invite Indians to co¬
operate with Englishmen in this godly martyrdom. It would be an in¬
dissoluble partnership drawn up in letters of the blood of their own
bodies, not of their so-called enemies . . . even at the risk of^ being
misunderstood, I must act in obedience to “the still small voice.

To Linlithgow, Gandhi explained his decision “to stand aside” from the
Working Committee because of his age, noting that had he been ten oi
fifteen years younger, ‘things might possibly have gone differently.’ ” The
viceroy hoped to convince Gandhi at least to support his idea of a defence
liaison committee of leading Congress and League politicians, as well as of
princes, to help fashion official policy throughout the war. Indeed, Lin¬
lithgow invited no fewer than fifty-two leading Indians to Simla at this
time, including Jinnah, whom he had hoped would join the meeting with
Gandhi. Jinnah, however, dodged the Mahatma, explaining “that he was
too busy to come until after 1st October.” 54 The viceroy explained to Gandhi
that he “could not disregard the legitimate claims of the Muslims and the
Princes,” though he recognized the “bitterness of communal feeling” and
“incompatibility” of the policies of Congress and the League. Gandhi re¬
plied that Britain should leave Indians to resolve the problem of “achieving
unity” themselves. And after three hours of futile discussion, Gandhi
“begged” Linlithgow not to consult the Muslim League.

“It is likely that the British Government will try to play off the Congress
against the Muslim League and the princes,” Nehru wrote his friend Krishna
Menon at this time. 55 The day after Gandhi met Linlithgow, Secretary of
State Zetland stated in Westminster that “the time has been ill chosen by
the leaders of the Congress for a reiteration of their claims.” Nehru replied
angrily on September 29, and once again his temper proved his own worst
enemy, serving Jinnah far better than Congress. He had misread the strength
of his Labour party support in London, even as he had long underestimated
Jinnah’s power. Gandhi’s “personal” initial response to Linlithgow, support¬
ing the war effort with “an English heart” would have proved a far wiser
political posture for Congress throughout the war.

On October 5, Jinnah arrived at the viceregal palace, “friendly and co¬
operative,” and “began by thanking Linlithgow for helping to keep the
Muslims together and Linlithgow replied that it was in the public interest
for the Muslim point of view to be fully and competently expressed.” 56
|j,nmli pleaded for ‘more protection” for Muslims, but Linlithgow frankly
Informed him tlmt alter studying the charges of persecution in Congress
provinces be “could find no specific instances of oppression.” Jinnah argued
lh„l ••Hindus bad a •subtle Intention* to iindormlno the Muslim position, as

174

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

lor example in the instruction issued in the North-West Frontier Province
lor compulsory teaching of Hindi.” Meanwhile, Labour leader Sir Stafford
Cripps was urging Jawaharlal ‘not to accept anything short of conclusive
action and to see to it that the Congress stood firm as a rock,” in a letter
dated October 11, 1939. 37 That same day Nehru told the All-India Congress
Committee, convened at Wardha: “A slave India cannot help Britain. We
want to assume control of our government and when we are free we can
liolp the democracies. 58 Gandhi took Jawaharlal’s impulsive lead and issued
Ins own statement from Wardha the next day, finding the viceroy’s coldly
noncommittal declaration of Britain’s unchanged “objectives” toward India
"profoundly disappointing.” “The long statement made by the Viceroy sim¬
ply shows that the old policy of divide and rule is to continue. So far as I
can see the Congress will be no party to it, nor can the India of Congress
conception be a partner with Britain in her war with Herr Hitler.” 59

Jinn ah said nothing. Pie waited (one suspects with baited breath) for
Ills rival party’s Working Committee to meet, to follow their revolutionary
leader helter-skelter into the “wiIderness”-out of provincial office. It did
meet at Wardha on October 22 and concurred that it could not “possibly
give any support to Great Britain, for it would amount to an endorsement
ol I lie imperialist policy which the Congress has always sought to end. As
a Hi.si stop in this direction the Committee call upon the Congress Ministries
In lender their resignations.” 60 Did Nehru and his colleagues believe that by
withdrawing their provincial support, Britain’s government of India would
Inlli 1 Or did they hope that in acting so dramatically they might strengthen
l.aboiirs leverage in London? Or was this designed as a rallying cry to
India ,s masses to prepare once more for revolutionary struggle?

jinnali then met with Linlithgow, Gandhi, and Rajendra Prasad in New
Delhi on November I, 1939. They all gathered at his new house at No. 10
Aiming/,eb Hoad, then “drove to Viceroy’s House in Jinnah’s car.” 61 That
""""'l meeting continued, without Nehru, at Jinnah’s house after Gandhi
.uni I rasad left the viceroy, but the new round of “communal talks” did not
I'l’l l |,n tf aur did it solve anything—Gandhi concluding, as he had felt be-
lore they met, that “Janab [Mr.] Jinnah Saheb [Sir] looks to the British
power to safeguard the Muslim rights. Nothing that the Congress can do
nr concede will satisfy him.” 02

On November 5, Linlithgow reported the "failure” of the talks as Con¬
gress provincial ministries resigned, one after another, obliging British gov¬
ernors to revert to u thoroughly autocratic ordinance raj. "Anonymous plac¬
ards passed through Iho countryside "asking people lo cut wires and tear
up rails, Cimdlil reported to Nehru. “My own opinion is that there is at

TOWARD LAHORE (1938-40) 175

present no atmosphere for civil disobedience. If people take the law into
their own hands I must give up command of civil disobedience move¬
ment.” 63 To Krishna Menon in London, Jawaharlal wrote the next day:
“Our position is one of noncooperation but have not as yet thought of any¬
thing more.” 64 Then Gandhi appealed to Jinnah through his Harijan jour¬
nal, taking a much more conciliatory tone: “British refusal to make the
required declaration of British war aims about India has perhaps come as
a blessing in disguise. It removes the Congress out of the way to enable the
Muslim League to make its choice, unfettered by the Congress administra¬
tion in eight Provinces [Assam, Bihar, Bombay, CP, Madras, Orissa, UP
and N-W FP], as to whether it will fight for the independence of an un¬
divided India. I hope that the League does not want to vivisect India. . . .
Presently the talks between Janab Jinnah Saheb and Pandit Jawaharlal
Nehru will be resumed. Let us hope that they will result in producing a
basis for a lasting solution of the communal tangle.” 65

But Jinnah had long since decided in favor of a separate and equal na¬
tion for Muslim India. Only the precise timing for announcing his intentions
remained to be resolved. Great negotiator that he was, he knew how im¬
portant timing could be for political, as well as legal, advantage. Unlike
Jawaharlal he never acted on impulse. If anything, he was more cold¬
blooded than Linlithgow and Zetland—and more patient. It must have given
him great satisfaction after all, to have the viceroy, Gandhi, and Congress
president Prasad come to his sitting room and drive in his Packard Eight
to the viceregal palace. Premature slamming of the door to all negotiations
would have robbed him of the crowning delight of political gamesmanship.
It would have been too easy to come out flatly for Pakistan, moreover,
shouting his demand from rooftops, as Rahmat Ali had done in England for
the past six years. Indeed, Ali, who first publicized the PAKISTAN demand,
was left a lonely man to die in England, with his remains always under
foreign soil. Such might easily have been Jinnah’s fate as well, but for his
unique capacity to make the most of every political option and opportunity.
At this time more than ever before, Jinnah’s mind focused on Islam and the
Quran. At the end of the Muslim month of fasting, which fell on November
13 in 1939, he was given viceregal permission to broadcast his first Id festi¬
val message, addressing himself particularly to “the young ... for it is
they who will henceforth have to bear the burden of our aspirations.” 66
Though clearly conscious of how frail his body had become, he was equally
determined to keep aloft as lie inched forward on the high wire he walked.
| i 1111 u 1 1 urged his "young friends” lo study John Morley’s On Compromise
in (Ills talk, lor as lie himself had learned from wind Morley wrote, "It is

176

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

worth while to take pains to find out the best way of doing a given task, . . .
‘to scorn delights and live laborious days’ in order to make as sure as we
can of having the best opinion.” 67

Since March of 1939, Jinnah had been chairing a subcommittee of his
Working Committee, on which Sir Sikander, Liaquat Ali, and Fazlul Haq
silt to consider various schemes for India’s political future. Pakistan was one
option. Sikander proposed an alternative “Outline of A Scheme of Indian
Federation” with seven “zones,” the first and last of which were essentially
Fast and West Pakistan. The League had moved closer toward choosing its
future course of action by December 1939, but the pressures of war and his
own precarious health made Jinnah decide to postpone his party’s annual
session till the following spring. He did not, however, wish to let the year
end without reminding the world of the League’s power and without broad¬
casting its policy. On December 2, 1939, therefore, he issued a dramatic
proclamation, announcing his choice of Friday, December 22, as a “Day of
Deliverance and thanksgiving as a mark of relief that the Congress regime
lias at last ceased to function.” 68 Jinnah’s resolution stated that

. . . the Congress Ministry has conclusively demonstrated and
proved the falsehood of the Congress claim that it represents all in¬
terests justly and fairly, by its decidedly anti-Muslim policy.

. . . the Congress Ministry [sic] both in the discharge of their duties
ol the administration and in the legislatures have done their best to
Hout the Muslim opinion, to destroy Muslim culture, and have inter-
lered with their religious and social life, and trampled upon their
economic and political rights; that in matters of differences and dis¬
putes the Congress . . . invariably have sided with, supported and
advanced the cause of the Hindus in total disregard and to the preju¬
dice of the Muslim interests.

Tlie Congress Governments constantly interfered with the legitimate
mid routine duties of district officers even in petty matters to the
.serious detriment of the Musalmans, and thereby created an atmo¬
sphere which spread the belief amongst the Hindu public that there
was established a Hindu raj, and emboldened the Hindus, mostly
< longre.N.smen, to ill-treat Muslims at various places and interfere with
their elementary rights of freedom. 69

Dandhi fell as soon as he read this that any prospect of resolving the
Hindu Muslim problem by further talks was over. 70 Nehru, learning to bo
less impulsive, wrote jinnah next day: . . what has oppressed me terribly
Nhice yesterday Is the realisation that our sense ol values and objectives in
llli' and poll! Ion differs no very get*fitly. I had hoped, after our coilvei’NiitIons,

177

TOWARD LAHORE ( 1938-40)

that this was not so great, but now the gulf appears to be wider than ever.” 71
Jinnah agreed it was “not possible to carry on talks regarding the Hindu-
Muslim settlement . . . till we reach an agreement with regard to the mi¬
nority problem.” High-wire negotiator that he was, however, he never lost
his temperate balance and was never to discard the last life line of possible
future contact, “I can only say that if you desire to discuss the matter fur¬
ther I am at your disposal.”

The Congress press now dubbed Jinnah “Dictator of Malabar Hills.” 72
Some of Jinnah’s own most trusted lieutenants, including thirty-seven-year-
old Ispahani, received a “rude shock” upon reading the resolution.

I did not expect such a command from you, because you have all
along kept politics on a very high and strong pedestal. ... I, how¬
ever, felt that some strong reason must have driven you to issue your
command for the observance of this day, . . . let me know what
prompted you to take the step. . . . The progressive elements in the
League who followed you blindly when you actively took up cudgels
on behalf of the unfortunate down-trodden Muslims of India, find to
their utmost regret and disappointment, that you are gradually drift¬
ing more and more into the arms of reactionaries and “jee hoozoors”

[yes men]. Those whom we despised, not many years ago, seem to
have lined up in the front rank of your supporters and advisers. As a
result, the League’s policy in general is being based on Sir Sikandar’s
and Fazlul Huq’s dictation. . . . Sir, is it not time that you take
stock of the whole situation and put down your foot with firmness? 73

Sixteen Muslim League members of Bengal’s Legislative Assembly, more¬
over, followed the lead of Abdur Rahman Siddiqi in openly breaking with
their quaid over what they considered an irreparable shock to Indian unity.

Jinnah decided to issue a longer statement to the press a few days later,
“since the guilty do not admit their guilt and public memory is short.” 74
He retraced Muslim grievances against Congress ministries from the start
of their tenure, referring to the Pirpur and other League reports. He also
reprinted the “direct action” resolution adopted at the Patna League session.
As soon as the Congress ministries resigned, Jinnah “immediately decided
to appeal for the observance of a day to express our relief and to show its
intensity in a matter that would force ears that had hitherto been deaf to
listen to us.” (What a descriptive way for one whose voice and lungs were
fast failing to make himself heard.) He had chosen a Friday so that Muslim
shops would, in any event, be closed, and Muslim workers would either stay
home or bo oil to llio mosque for communal prayers.

jinniili won strong support from Smith India’s "IIravidistnn Justice party
leader, Mt/ar F. V. Ilamnswnml Naiekor (18H0-1974) for his l.)uy ol l>

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

llvorance. He called upon his party as well as all Dravidians to celebrate
I Jdcember 22 on a grand scale ... to rid the country of the menace of the
(-ongrcss. Similar statements of enthusiastic support were voiced by lead¬
ers of the All India Depressed Classes Association and smaller Anglo-Indian
groups. It would be impossible to say how many people turned out to cele-
Inule the Day of Deliverance, but many resolutions similar to those origi¬
nally proposed by Jinnah were adopted. A full-page advertisement of the

• lav i an in the Times of India, but Gandhi judged that “it seems to have
I alien llat everywhere.” 75 At the public meeting in Bombay, Sir Currimbhoy
I Ibrahim of the Muslim League moved the resolution, and Dr. B. R. Am-
liedkar, Untouchable leader of the Independent Labour party, seconded it.

Sir Stafford Cripps was in India at this time, having come to test the
loasibility of Labours plan to push Britain’s cabinet into proclaiming its
Immediate willingness to grant dominion status to India and to concede
India’s right to convene its own constituent assembly “immediately [when]

I lie war is over, or before that time if opportunity occurs.” 76 Cripps re¬
vealed his scheme to Nehru and Gandhi and soon learned there were other
voices in India as well when he met with Liaquat, Sikander, and on De¬
cember .15 with Jinnah himself. Jinnah insisted that “a Constituent Assembly
was not the correct procedure until you had kicked out Great Britain,”
arguing that “the power factor had to be decided first.” Before leaving
bid in. Cripps advised Linlithgow to take a fresh approach to resolving the
Hindu Muslim conflict and urged him to “go in at the right moment, try to
gel both sides together, and make them write down in so many words pre¬
cisely what they wanted and in what terms they were prepared to reach an
Mgreemenl, 77 That was the arbitrator’s technique of conflict resolution
(Iripps would advise Mountbatten to try, effectively, after the war.

< ripps returned home, proposing to Zetland an immediate declaration
logelber with the appointment of national leaders to the viceroy’s executive
council and the election of a constituent assembly that would take decisions

• hi lli«* principle of a simple majority. This condition was an anathema to
Imull, who insisted that a two-thirds majority be mandatory for any “com
mmnd issue ; Congress though, would not hear of such abandonment of
democratic principle. Then Linlithgow toured Bombay in early January and
'.poke before the Orient Club, announcing that “full Dominion Status . . .

• •I the Statute of Westminster variety” was the goal of His Majesty’s Gov
cmmciil toward India, and they were prepared immediately to add “a small
number ol Indian political leaders to his executive council, to reopen the
•’idIre scheme of the Act of 1955 “as soon as practicable," VH It was the fruit
nl Cripps s unoillelal mission and advice, reflecting the growing concern
In London over the perils of Indian wartime non cooperation, Mad l.in

TOWABD LAHORE (1938-40) 179

lithgow made such a speech the previous October, Congress might never
have withdrawn from provincial administrations and there would have been
no Day of Deliverance.

Jinnah seemed increasingly preoccupied from this time till his death
with questions of disease and its diagnosis, and thus he was wont to put
other ills in terms of “disease.” “The constitutional maladies from which
India at present suffers may best be described as symptoms of a disease
inherent in the body-politic,” he wrote for London’s Time and Tide of
January 19, 1940. “Without diagnosing the disease, no understanding of the
symptoms is possible and no remedy can suggest itself. Let us, therefore,
first diagnose the disease, then consider the symptoms and finally arrive at
the remedy.” 79 Such was Jinnah’s thinking as he braced himself for the final
stretch across the high wire, balanced precariously over the abyss of his
own mortality. For in March, “As we travelled from Bombay to New Delhi,”
Fatima recalled, “he had a slight temperature. After dinner, as he lay on his
berth, suddenly he gasped with pain and moaned loud enough for me to
hear above the noise of the rattling train. I sat up and went to his side. He
was in such pain that he could not speak. He pointed with his finger to a
spot in the middle of his back, to the right of the spinal cord. His face was
contorted with pain, and since we were in a compartmental train I could
not rush out for medical aid. I first massaged the spot which he had indi¬
cated, but my ministration seemed to do him little good. . . . The train
steamed into Delhi station in the early hours of the morning and soon we
were at 10 Aurangzeb Road. ... I phoned his doctor whose diagnosis was
that my brother had pleurisy and that he must stay in bed for about a fort¬
night. As soon as the doctor left, my brother said, ‘What bad luck. It is an
important session. My participation is essential. And here I am, confined to
bed.’ Two restless days later he was up and at work.” 80 He went to meet
Linlithgow on March 13, and “he used the occasion to assure the Viceroy
that the Muslims would not retard the war effort if an undertaking was
given to them that no political settlement would be reached with the Con¬
gress without the previous consent of the Muslims. The Viceroy ... re¬
acted favourably and said he would communicate his views to London.” 81

Jinnah had little more than a week to recover his strength from the
strain of meeting with the viceroy to the start of his journey to Lahore, it¬
self wracked by violent illness on the eve of the League’s most momentous
meeting. On March 19,1940, “like a bolt from the blue, Lahore had the im¬
pact of a bloody drama in which scores of Khaksars, including their lion-
hearted Salar, Agha Zaighnm (chest measurement 48") were mercilessly
butchered by the Punjab Police under the command of the Senior Super¬
intendent ol Polled, Mr, D. Gulnsford, who had In's nose chopped off in the

180 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

bargain/' Mian Mohammad Shafi, junior reporter at the time, recalled, not¬
ing that the ensuing curfew “temporarily converted the gay city of Lahore
into a political graveyard.” 82 Paramilitary Muslim Khaksars were as hostile
toward the Muslim League as they were anti-Hindu and anti-Sikh.

As Khaksar unrest continued to plague Lahore toward the eve of the
scheduled meeting, Sir Sikander phoned Jinnah in New Delhi to ask if the
session would not best be “postponed to another suitable date?” Quaid-i-
Azuin s answer was an emphatic no, but he did instruct the premier of the
Punjab to “abandon” all “arrangements for taking me out in a proces¬
sion . . . out of respect to the memory of the Khaksar martyrs.” 83 On the
morning of March 22, 1940, Jinnah quietly arrived in Lahore by the frontier
mail train and motored straight from the railway station to the Mayo Hos¬
pital, where he “visited in a general ward each one of the wounded
Khaksars,” Shafi recalled, insisting that “This had a soothing effect on the
lacerated hearts of the people of Lahore.” As a whole, however, the Khaksars
never were reconciled to Jinnah’s leadership and tried more than once in
llie next few years to assassinate him.

More than 60,000 Muslims gathered inside the gigantic tent erected in
Minto (now Allama Iqbal) Park, within view of the lofty marble minarets
ol the beautiful Badshahi Masjid and Shah Jehan’s Great Fort. Lahore, a
leeming center of Muslim power in South Asia since the eleventh century,
capital of the Punjab, and cultural heartland of Mughal India, was about to
give birth to the League's “Pakistan” Resolution. Jinnah wore an achkan
.md choriclar pyjamas, traditional Punjabi garb, and entered the packed
|mi k la 1 at 2:25 p.m. on March 22. A regal throne awaited him at center
■■luge. A lower throne to the right was for Fatima clad in a pale, ivory silken
sari. They were surrounded by a sturdy cadre of Bombay Muslim League
national guards, whose glittering swords remained drawn throughout that
I 1 inlay session, sharp reminders to all Khaksars inside the pandal to behave
I hem,selves in the presence of the Quaid-i-Azam.

I )enfening shouts of “Zindabad” welcomed Jinnah as he rose to walk to
I he microphone, lie started speaking in Urdu as the reception committee
chairman, the nawub of Marndot, who introduced him had done, but soon
•'hilled to Fnglish, apologizing to the mass audience as he gestured toward
•he press corps: "The world is watching us, so let me have your permission
lo have my say in English.” 84 At that point there were some murmurs of
angry protest, but Jinnah “stood calmly; and while the crowd settled into
silence, he lit a cigarette and looked over them with his compelling eye,”
one witness recalled, ‘'From then, they listened and did not: utter a word.” 85
lie spoke lor nearly two hours," the Times of India reported, “his voice
now deep and trenchant, now light and Ironic. Such was the dominance of

TOWARD LAHORE (1938-40) 181

his personality that, despite the improbability of more than a fraction of his
audience understanding English, he held his hearers and played with pal¬
pable effect on their emotions.” 86 It was his largest audience, his greatest
performance to date. Muslim India’s foremost leaders were there, and the
overflow crowd filled the park outside, with close to 100,000 Punjabis,
Sindhis, Bengalis, Pathans, and Baluchis gathered to hear their Quaid-i-
Azam’s voice. He must have seemed no less than a Mughal emperor resur¬
rected. Thanks to Associated Press International, Reuters, and UPI, Jinnah’s
message at Lahore was cabled that evening the world over, and especially
perused with tea that same day in London’s Atheneum, studied and under¬
lined at Whitehall and Downing Street, discussed in the City, and debated
in Westminster.

The last session of the All-India Muslim League took place at Patna
in December 1938. Since then many developments have taken place.

Now, what is our position with regard to the future Constitution? It
is that, as soon as circumstances permit, or immediately after the war
at the latest, the whole problem of India’s future Constitution must
be examined de novo, and the Act of 1935 must go once for all. We
do not believe in asking the British Government to make declara¬
tions. These declarations are really of no use. 87

Jinnah then reflected on the most recent session of Congress, which had
been meeting for the past week in central India’s Ramgarh under its newly
elected Muslim president, Maulana Azad, and which Gandhi attended. “And
this now is what Mr. Gandhi said on the 20th of March, 1940. He says: ‘To
me, Hindus, Muslims, Parsis, Harijans are all alike. I cannot be frivolous’—
but I think he is frivolous—‘I cannot be frivolous when I talk of Quaid-i-Azam
Jinnah. He is my brother.’ ” “The only difference is this, that brother Gandhi
has three votes and I have only one vote” commented Jinnah acerbically, as
he continued, quoting from Gandhi’s speech: “ 1 would be happy indeed if
he could keep me in his pocket.’ I do not know really what to say to this
latest offer of his,” Jinnah remarked smiling wryly. Then speaking to Gan¬
dhi, Jinnah added, “Why not come as a Hindu leader proudly representing
your people and let me meet you proudly representing the Musalmans?
This is all that I have to say so far as the Congress is concerned.” 88

Jinnah felt completely secure, of course, in suggesting this formula for
“resolving” their problems, knowing not only that Congress had put its lead¬
ing Muslim at the pinnacle of the party that year, but also that an azad
(free) Muslim conference was to be held the next month in Delhi, to which
all non-League Muslim parties were invited "to dissociate themselves from
Muslim Longue politics and to assert the general Congress demand,” as

i 82 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

Nehru explained it to Krishna Menon, while insisting: “This is not being or¬
ganized by the Congress as such, though Congress Muslims will take a
lending part.” 80 Rather than growing more receptive to admitting “Hindu”
Identity, Congress had thus become more determined than ever to prove its
comprehensively national character—and was to remain so—insisting that
religious bias played no role in its deliberations, policies, or programs.

Jinnah and his party were no longer willing to retain mere “minority”
status, and the capital of the Punjab had been chosen purposely as the place
to announce the Muslim League’s newborn resolve.

11 has always been taken for granted mistakenly that the Musalmans
arc a minority, and of course we have got used to it for such a long
time that these settled notions sometimes are very difficult to remove.
The Musalmans are not a minority. The Musalmans are a nation by
any definition.

The problem in India is not of an inter-communal but manifestly of
an international character, and it must be treated as such. So long as
this basic and fundamental truth is not realized, any constitution that
may he built will result in disaster and will prove destructive and
harmful not only to the Musalmans, but also to the British and
I [Indus. If the British Government are really in earnest and sincere
lo secure the peace and happiness of the people of this Subcontinent,

I he only course open to us all is to allow the major nations separate
homelands, by dividing India into “autonomous national States.” 90

jiimuli did not use the name Pakistan, nor would it appear in the forthcom¬
ing Lahore resolution. He had, nonetheless, obviously given much thought,
on I simply to this immediate “solution” for the Hindu-Muslim problem but
also to the long-range international implications of partition. Jinnah no
longer questioned either the wisdom, viability, or aftermath impact of par-
ill Ion but had decided by the spring of 1940 that this was the only long-
lcmi resolution to India’s foremost problem.

I hi null’s Lahore address lowered the final curtain on any prospects for
a single united independent India. Those who understood him enough to
know that once his mind was made up he never reverted to any earlier po¬
sition realized how momentous a pronouncement their Quaid-i-Azam had
|usl made. The rest of the world would take at least seven years to appre¬
ciate tliul he literally meant every word he had uttered that important after¬
noon in March. There was no turning back. The ambassador of llindu-
Mnsllm unity had totally transformed himself Into Pakistan's great leader.
All that remained was for his purty first, then his Inchoate nation, and then
Ills Itrlllttli allies to agree lo the lornmlii he had resolved upon, As lor Cun

TOWARD LAHORE ( 1938-40) 183

dhi, Nehru, Azad and the rest, they were advocates of a neighbor state and
would be dealt with according to classic canons of diplomacy. The crowd
went wild with acclamation as he stepped from the microphone and returned
to his throne to lead his sister from the pandal. He had crossed the high
wire without falling. His hand trembled as he lit a fresh cigarette, but his
lungs had held and his voice had remained audible. It had been truly a
stellar performance, worthy of the lead role he alone could command in this
company.

185

Lahore to Delhi
( 1940 - 42 )

The historic Pakistan resolution was hammered into final form at Lahore
after Quaid-i-Azam finished speaking. The League’s Subjects Committee
met to argue over their draft through the early hours of Saturday, March
23, and it was not until late afternoon that unanimity was reached. Sir
Sikander found the concept of partition insupportable till the bitter end, for
It was at once a repudiation of his Unionist party’s basic platform of Hindu-
Muslim-Sikh coexistence, and of his potential to win personal leadership
over the League. After hearing how enthusiastically Jinnah’s speech was
received, however, Sikander must have known that his days of aspiring to
supreme leadership of the Muslims of India were numbered. Even in the
heart of his home province that morning an angry crowd of young Muslim
I .ouguo militants marched round the pandal, while the Subjects Committee
met inside, shouting “Sikander Murdabad” (“Death to Sikander”). Hearing
that most popular curse connected to his own name in Lahore must have
given him pause, When Jinnah appeared, however, the young men changed
their cry to “Quaid-i-Azam Zindabad!” 1 Whoever had trained and orches¬
trated that chorus had done an effective job.

Jinnah presided over the second day’s session of the Lahore League.
I'V/lnl Ifaq, who chaired the Subjects Committee, moved the first resolu¬
tion, the most famous third paragraph of which stated:

That it is the considered view of this Session of the All-India Muslim
I -cague that no constitutional plan would be workable in this country
or acceptable to the Muslims unless it is designed on the following
basic principles, viz,, that geographically contiguous units are de¬
marcated into regions which should he so constituted, will) such ter¬
ritorial readjustments as may hr necessary, that the mens in which

LAHORE TO DELHI (1940-42)

the Muslims are numerically in a majority, as in the North-Western
and Eastern zones of India, should be grouped to constitute Inde¬
pendent States in which the constituent units shall be autonomous
and sovereign. 2

Pakistan was not explicitly mentioned; nor was it clear from the lan¬
guage of the resolution whether a single Muslim state of both “zones” had
been envisioned or two separate “autonomous” independent states, one in
the Northwest, the other in the Eastern (Bangladesh) zone. Sher-i-Bengal
(“Lion of Bengal”) Fazlul Haq at least appears to have had the latter in
mind when he drafted the resolution and read it aloud. But Jinnah was the
leader; and when asked by reporters if this resolution meant one, or more
than one, Muslim nation, his unequivocal answer sealed the fate of Bengal’s
Muslim majority. India’s newspaper headlines next day pronounced the
Lahore resolution, a single “Pakistan Resolution,” and so it remained.

Sikander held out for some form of federating central government to
unite the “sovereign constituent units” and insisted till his death in Decem¬
ber 1942 that the Lahore resolution was only a “bargaining point” for the
League. For Sikander, indeed it was, but not for Jinnah. Punjab governor,
Sir Henry Craik, reported the resolution to Linlithgow as “a very effective
riposte to Congress as it torpedoed the Congress claim to speak for India.” 3

A few days later Gandhi was asked: “Do you intend to start general civil
disobedience although Quaid-e-Azam Jinnah has declared war against Hin¬
dus and has got the Muslim League to pass a resolution favouring vivisec¬
tion of India into two? If you do, what becomes of your formula that there
is no swaraj without communal unity?” To this he replied: “I admit that the
step taken by the Muslim League at Lahore creates a baffling situation. But
I do not regard it so baffling as to make disobedience an impossibility. . . .
The Muslims must have the same right of self-determination that the rest of
India has. We are at present a joint family. Any member may claim a
division.” 4

Other leaders of Congress reacted more strongly. “I consider it a sign of
a diseased mentality that Mr. Jinnah has brought himself to look upon the
idea of one India as a misconception and the cause of most of our trouble,”
argued Chakravarti Rajagopalachari (C.R.) (1879-1972) of Madras, who
was to become first Indian governor-general. 5 Nehru wrote of the resolution
as “Jinnah’s fantastic proposals,” reading it as a cat’s paw of British imperial
duplicity. 0 At Rumgarh, Congress had resolved that “India’s constitution
must be based on independence, democracy and national unity,” repudi¬
ating "attempts to divide India or to split up her nationhood.” 7

Linqiiul All Khun convened the third day's proceedings of the Lahore
League shortly before noon, announcing that “the (,)uald I Azam would nr*

I86

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

rive a little late.” Jinnah, though exhausted, managed to muster strength
enough to appear inside the pandal shortly after the meeting commenced.
He was in the chair, in fact, when Dr. Mohammad Alam, a recent convert
lo the League after having left Congress, seconded the resolution moved
the day before. The resolution carried by acclamation. Another resolution
asserting the League’s “grave concern” at British “inordinate delay ... in
coming to a settlement with the Arabs in Palestine,” also carried that final
day. The session then adjourned and was reconvened by Jinnah at 9:00 p.m.,
alter he had had several hours’ rest. He personally moved a resolution on be¬
half of the Khaksars, urging the Punjab government to remove the “unlaw¬
ful ban imposed on that militant Muslim organization, and called for an
'impartial committee of inquiry” to investigate the “tragic . . . clash be¬
tween the Khaksars and the Police” of March 19. Jinnah urged every one to
bring all the evidence” to such an inquiry committee, once it was ap¬
pointed, adding: The rest we will see, and God will help us.” In winding
up the session that night, Jinnah called it a “landmark in the history of In¬
dia and concluded that “The more you organize yourself, the more you
will be able to get your rights.” The session ended just before midnight with
.shouts of Quaid-i-Azam Zindabad!” The next day before leaving Lahore,
Jinnah told reporters, “I have thoroughly enjoyed my stay in Lahore be¬
cause of the result; otherwise I was worked to death.” 8

Linlithgow wrote Jinnah in April, reassuring him that “His Majesty’s
< Government are in friendly and sympathetic relations with all Muslim Pow¬
ers to some of whom indeed they are bound by alliance.” 9 Wounded by
gunfire in London’s Caxton Hall a month before, triggered by young Udam
Singh, the Sikh assassin of Sir Michael O’Dwyer, Lord Zetland then opted
lor early retirement. The War Cabinet’s new secretary of state for India was
L, S, Amery (1873-1955), Prime Minister Churchill’s predecessor as first
lord of the admiralty. With Churchill and Amery at the helm in London,
Jinnah s stock rose much higher in New Delhi and Simla. The Hindus
clover correspondent, B. Shiva Rao, reported from Simla in June on an
“outbreak” of "Jinnah complex which seems to obsess the official mind. No
•■lop can be taken, however reasonable, lest Mr. Jinnah should be offended.” 10

Al this juncture, Sikander tried his best to negotiate a federal scheme
settlement willi Congress, hoping to short-circuit Jinnah, and working with
Llnlilligow’s tacit support. The viceroy sought a further round of discus¬
sions between Gandhi and Jinnah, but Jinnah was not eager to return to fu¬
lfil' arguments and waited in any event till he had a chance to meet with
his Working Committee and get them to arm him with a tougher set of de¬
mands, Gandhi wrote to Linlithgow offering "to go to Germany or any¬
where required to plead for pemeo," since as he noted. "I do not believe

187

LAHORE TO DELHI (1940-42)

Herr Hitler to be as bad as he is portrayed. He might even have been a
friendly power as he may still be.” 11 The viceroy did not, however, accept
that offer.

Jinnah called his Working Committee to Bombay in mid-June; and after
a stormy three-day meeting at which Sikander did his best to wrest leader¬
ship of the League for himself, they resolved first of all to endorse the
Quaid-i-Azam’s position as voiced in late May, reminding the British that
“Up to the present moment, we have not created any difficulty nor have we
embarrassed the British Government in the prosecution of the war. 12 The
League’s high command then looked “with alarm at the growing menace of
Nazi aggression which has been most ruthlessly depriving one nation after
another of its liberty and freedom and regards the unprovoked attack by
the Italian Government against the Allies as most unwarranted and immoral
at a time when France was engaged in a brave struggle against very heavy
odds.” 13

Jinnah visited the viceregal palace at Simla on June 27, 1940, conferring
at length with Linlithgow. Afterwards he wrote a memo reaffirming that the
Lahore “Pakistan” resolution had become “the universal faith of Muslim In¬
dia” and that the viceroy had promised him “that no interim or final scheme
of new constitution would be adopted by the British Government without
the previous approval of Muslim India.” 14 They had also agreed that every¬
thing should be done that is possible to intensify war efforts and mobilise
all the resources of India for her defence for the purpose of maintaining in¬
ternal security, peace and tranquility, and to ward off external aggression.
Jinnah insisted that “this can only be achieved provided the British Govern¬
ment are ready and willing to associate the Muslim leadership as equal
partners in the Government both at the Centre and in all the provinces.
Specifically, he recommended that for the duration of the war the Execu¬
tive Council of the Viceroy be expanded to include at least as many Mus¬
lim members as Hindus “if the Congress comes in”; otherwise Muslims, all
to be chosen by the League, were to have the majority of additional council
membership.

In mid-1940, with Britain braced against German invasion and its popu¬
lace desperately seeking to survive an endless monsoon of bombs, Jinnah
wisely judged that the time was not ripe for a power struggle “show down
with the British. Gandhi at this time published an “open letter” to “every
Briton," urging “cessation of hostilities.”

No cause, however just, can warrant the indiscriminate slaughter
that is going on minute by minute. ... I do not want Britain to be
defeated, nor do I want her to be victorious in a trial of brute
strength, . . , I want you to fight Nazism without arms, ... I

1 w JINN AH OF PAKISTAN

would like you to lay down the arms you have as being useless for
saving you or humanity. You will invite Herr Hitler and Signor Mus¬
solini to take what they want of the countries you call your posses¬
sions. Let them take possession of your beautiful island, with your
many beautiful buildings. You will give all these, but neither your
souls, nor your minds. If these gentlemen choose to occupy your
homes, you will vacate them. If they do not give you free passage
out, you will allow yourself, man, woman and child, to be slaugh¬
tered, but you will refuse to owe allegiance to them. ... I am
(tilling His Excellency the Viceroy that my services are at the dis¬
posal of His Majesty’s Government, should they consider them of any
practical use in advancing the object of my appeal. 15

I lie viceroy did not, however, use the Mahatma’s “services” in this regard,
opting instead to follow Jinnah’s advice by expanding his executive council
In make it a more effective weapon of war.

Jinn ah convened his Working Committee in Bombay early that Septem¬
ber. Tile committee reaffirmed the League’s Pakistan demand and noted
with satisfaction the viceroy’s “clear assurance that no future Constitution,
interim or final, will be adopted by the British Government without the
Muslim League’s approval and consent.” 16 It did not, however, accept the
viceroy’s offer regarding the membership of the Executive Council, resolving
Inter that month to request Linlithgow to “reconsider” his proposal, and
unihorizing Jinnah to “seek further information and clarification.” Sikander
tried his best to persuade his committee colleagues to accept the viceroy’s
August offer, threatening to withdraw from the League if Jinnah persisted
In his obstinacy.” 17 Jinnah, however, was never moved by threats from any
source, and Sikander did not quit the League. Armed with his Working
Committee’s support, Jinnah informed the viceroy that a prior condition to
I la- Leagues willingness to join any expanded executive council or war ad¬
visory council was an understanding that “in the event of any other party
|< ■(ingress | deciding later on to be associated ... it should be allowed to
do so on terms that may be approved of and consented to by the Muslim
League’. Linlithgow considered Jinnah’s escalating demands “obstructive”
to the war effort and felt that Jinnah wanted to become “in effect . . .
Ti imo Minister," a goal the viceroy “had no intention whatever” of furthering.

< .'ongress was eager to launch civil disobedience, and the only question
(•undid laid to resolve was whether it should be a symbolic individual or
muss movement. Tito individual variety toward which he was predisposed
was, ol course, easier to control and keep nonviolent. On the eve of his sev¬
enty-first birthday, the Mnluitma was understandably roliietunt to lead an
oilier campaign that might provoke major violence, liitllvlcliml Sati/d^ntlia

LAHORE TO DELHI (1940-42) 189

was launched in mid-October. Gandhi selected his saintly ashram disciple,
Vinoba Bhave, to court arrest first by openly speaking out against the war
effort. Vinoba was arrested on October 17 and sentenced to three months
in jail. Government ordered all newspapers to stop publishing statements
against the war effort. Gandhi “protested” by suspending publication of his
Harijan journal. The Mahatma next considered the “possibility of a fast,
prolonged or unto death” and wrote to warn the viceroy of that possibility,
while “waiting on God to find what is to be the case. 18 He also tried to ap¬
peal directly to Hitler to stop the war, but the letter he wrote was never
permitted to leave India. Nehru argued vigorously against a fast, insisting
it was “inopportune” and offering to court jail himself. He was arrested on
October 30 and tried for breaking British martial law early in November.
Jawaharlal was found guilty as charged and sentenced to four years of rig¬
orous imprisonment, most of it spent in his old cell at Dehra Dun.

Jinnah took pains at this time to remind the British of how loyal Mus¬
lims had been and how worthy of partnership. He launched a threefold at¬
tack upon “enemies” within the government of India, militant Hindus, and
Muslims in Congress. Among the former he included Linlithgow himself, to
whose face he was overheard saying, “You have double-crossed me. 19 By
then Jinnah considered the viceroy “wooden and ante-diluvian and had
concluded that Linlithgow and his official coterie at Simla merely want our
support on the assurance that we shall be remembered as loyal servants
after the war and will even be given a bakhsheesh!” 20 Hindu leaders of the
Mahasabha wanted to “treat” Muslims, Jinnah argued, “like Jews in Ger¬
many.” As for Congress Muslims, Jinnah called them mere “show-boys. 21

Early in February 1941, Shah Nawaz Khan prepared a confidential mem¬
orandum for Jinnah on “What is Pakistan,” a demographic analysis of each
province in the Northwestern and Northeastern Muslim zones of British In¬
dia, and some strategic advice about “the Indian states. From this date at
least, it is clear that Jinnah knew it would be “necessary to readjust the
Punjab’s “territorial boundaries”; and Shah Nawaz suggested excluding Am-
bala Division which was not only mostly Hindu and Sikh in population but
also a fiscal “liability and not an asset.” 22 In the Northeast, moreover, Jinnah
was alerted to the following harsh realities: the Muslim population of As¬
sam was only 31.8 percent of that province’s total population, while the
third wan Division of Bengal was “overwhelmingly Hindu,” and the overall
Muslim majority of Bengal totalled a scanty 54.8 percent. Shah Nawaz
cleverly proposed excluding Burdwan Division from Pakistan s Eastern
wing but retaining the large and rich region of Assam united to the rest of
Ib'iigal, tin in raising the Muslim majority in the region ns a whole to 57.9
percent. In tilts confidential memo. SIihILn sluewd son-in-law also recom-

I!)()

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

mended a third federation’' of Indian states, since most princes, like Mus¬
lims, were “anxious to maintain their integrity and sovereign rights.” As for
I lyderabad, however, he felt it was large and populous enough to merit
lnlly independent status with “direct political relations with the Crown
like Nopal. Jinnah was to rely heavily on this memo in the years of strenu¬
ous negotiation ahead.

The annual session of the League was scheduled to start on April 12,
HMI, in Madras’s Peoples Park, where an estimated 100,000 Muslims gath¬
ered, filling the pandal to capacity long before their Quaid-i-Azam reached
the sweltering scene. “When our train was a few hours from Madras, he got
ii|) and suddenly collapsed,” Fatima recalled. “I dashed to his side, kneeling
on the floor, and asked, ‘Jin, what is wrong?”’

I lc smiled, a worn out smile, “I suddenly felt very weak, exhausted.”

I le put his hand on my shoulder, slowly lifted himself, and staggered
lo his berth . . . the train came to a halt . . . and thousands of en¬
thusiastic admirers were on the platform, shouting, “Quaid-e-Azam
Zlnbdbacl. I opened the door of our compartment slightly and
pleaded, “Don’t shout. The Quaid is resting, he has a fever and is
fatigued, Please get a doctor.”

Within minutes a doctor arrived, examined him and said, “Sir, you
have had a nervous breakdown, nothing serious, but I would advise
you not to move about for at least a week. Please stay in bed.”

We were soon in Madras. . . . The Quaid was too weak to address
llm opening session, but on the following day he insisted that he
would deliver his presidential address. I advised him against it, but
finding that he was adamant, I begged him to make short speech. “All
right, I .shall try to be brief,” he said. He had no notes . . once he
began, lie went on speaking for over two hours. 23

Ladies and gentlemen, in the first place let me thank you and those
who have made enquiries about my indisposition. I have received so many
messages and calls that it is not possible for me to reply to them person-
lll, y- • • • I hope you will accept my heartfelt thanks. . . ” 24 Behind
Inin on the glittering dais, decked in green silk and flanked by its Muslim
l eague guards, sat the revered leader of South India’s anti-Congress non-
Ihalunan Justice party, E. V. llamaswumi Naicker, the Periyar ("Great
Sage”) 1)1 the "Dravklistan” movement, and other Tmnilnnd luminaries, in-
eluding Jimmh's old friend Sir A. I’, Patro, "Since the fall of the Mughal
I'aiiplre, I think I am right in saying that Muslim India was never so well
organized and so alive and so politically conscious us it Is to-day." jinnah
kept one hand clutched in the pocket of Ills loose hanging while linen jacket

191

LAHORE TO DELHI ( 1940-42 )

as he spoke, bracing himself with the other bony-fingered arm on the speak¬
er’s stand, determined not to smoke or to fall. “We have established a flag
of our own, a national flag of Muslim India. We have established a remark¬
able platform which displays and demonstrates a complete unity of the en¬
tire solid body of Muslim India.” He spoke extempore in a faultless subdued
English accent, and his face, though rather skeletal, was brightened by the
luminosity of bis eyes.

We have defined in the clearest language our goal about which
Muslim India was groping in the dark, and the goal is Pakistan.

That is our five-year plan of the past. We have succeeded in raising
the prestige and reputation of the League not only throughout this
country—we have now reached the farthest corners of the world,
and we are watched throughout the world. Now what next? . . . No
people can ever succeed in anything that they desire unless they
work for it and work hard for it. . . . What is required now is that
you should think—and I say this particularly to you, Delegates of the
All-India Muslim League who have gathered here from all parts of
India—we must now think and devise the programme of a five-year
plan, and part of the five-year plan should be how quickly and how
best the departments of the national life of Muslim India may be
built up. 25

He needed and wanted more brains, more bodies, platoons and brigades
of wise, young, and fearless followers to carry on, magnify, actualize his or¬
ders. For his own strength, his life’s energy was flagging and failing him.
He was clearly feeling the strain of speaking in that stuffed, humid, over¬
heated pandal; but instead of quitting, he grit his teeth and forged ahead,
drawing energy it seemed from the crowd’s attention and palpable devotion.
The fever had returned to plague his painfully thin body. Still he would not
abandon the podium or turn his back on so huge and receptive an audience.

He meandered over the political history of India since the war had
started, returning again and again to his favorite subject,

. . . what the Congress wants. The Congress has taken up a position
about which there is absolutely no doubt. I should like to ask any
man with a grain of sense, Do you really think that Gandhi, the
supreme leader, commander and general of the Congress, has started
this Satyagrahu merely for the purpose of getting liberty of speech?
Don’t you really feel that this is nothing but a weapon of coercion
and blackmailing the.British, who arc in a tight corner, to surrender
and concede I lie Congress demands? 211

Then I limit] i concluded Ills Madras iiddreNN with a

192

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

real warning to the British Government, because after all they are in
possession of this land and the Government of this Subcontinent.
Please stop your policy of appeasement towards those who are bent
upon frustrating your war efforts and doing their best to oppose the
prosecution of the war and the defence of India at this critical mo¬
ment. . . . You are not loyal to those who are willing to stand by you
and sincerely desire to support you; you desire to placate those who
have the greatest nuisance value in the political and economic fields.
... If the Government want the whole-hearted co-operation of Mus¬
lim India, they must place their cards on the table. 27

“The great enthusiasm of that large gathering had served as a tonic,” Fatima
remembered, “but only I knew that weakness, exhaustion and fever would
follow.” 28

Seeking purer air at higher altitudes for his tubercular lungs, Jinnah
went up to the Nandi Hills in Mysore State and Ootacamund to try to re¬
cover strength after Madras. What respite he found would only be tempo-
iury, lor the insidious illness that drained his energy was by now irrevers¬
ible. Nor could he stop smoking. Jinnah’s health remained precarious all
llml summer, and indeed by July he was still too weak to accept a tele¬
phoned invitation from Bombay’s governor, Sir Roger Lumley, to come visit
him in Poona s Ganeshkhind, the governor’s summer house about ninety
miles from Bombay, to learn of Linlithgow’s plans for constitutional change.
Sir Roger wrote “confidentially” to Jinnah on July 20:

He is . . . establishing with the approval of His Majesty’s Govern¬
ment, a National Defence Council. This Council will consist of some
■'JO members, nine of whom will be drawn from Indian States. The
Viceroy regards it as essential that the Great Muslim community
should be represented on that Council by persons of the highest
prominence and capacity. He has accordingly invited the Premier of
Assam, Bengal, the Punjab and Sind to serve as members of it. . . .

Ho has considered whether he should invite you to let him have any
suggestions as to possible personnel for this Council, but being
aware, as he is, of your general attitude, he has concluded that it
would be preferable not to embarrass you by inviting you to make
suggestions . 80

Jinnah was not embarrassed; he was infuriated. He read the viceroy’s in-
vital Ions to Sir Sikandcr, Fazlul Ilaq, and the League premier of Assam, Sir
Muhammad Saadullah, as a direct challenge to his authority and power
over each of them as president of the Muslim League. Sikandcr, in fact, had
appealed personally lo the viceroy for Punjabi representation on the ex¬
panded executive council, and Linlithgow had long found him much easier

Jinnah and Ruttie’s home

atop Malabar Hill in Bombay, c. 1920

Jinnah, c. 1927

Addressing the Muslim League in

Preparing to address India
on the eve of Pakistan, 1947

LAllOfltt TO nilLlU ( IrMlf r \<L)

to (I,>ul with Hum 11 1 milli Tlmt Atigiiwl jlmmli ciilli-tl his Working (lonmilttwi
to Bombay to deal with this challenge from Simla. Sir Sikandcr, Fa/lul Haq,
and Saadvilluh tried In vain to argue that they had joined the viceroys de¬
fence council as provincial premiers, rather than as representatives of Mus¬
lim opinion. Jinnah gave them no option but to quit the council or leave the
League. Sikandcr, after a long private talk with Jinnah, agreed to abide by
the decision of the committee. Sikander’s capitulation was followed im¬
mediately by his resignation and that of Sir Saadullah from the viceroy s de¬
fence council. Fazlul Haq, however, proved less pliable; and though he
promised to resign from the viceroy’s council, he was most dilatory about
doing it. But he did resign from both the National Defence Council and the
Working Committee of the League, “As a mark of protest against the arbi¬
trary use of powers vested in its President,” voicing the strongest opposi¬
tion to Jinnah’s leadership and articulating what may in retrospect be
viewed as a nascent “Bangladeshi” position against West Pakistani domi¬
nance. The Muslim premier of Bengal argued that recent events have forc¬
ibly brought home to me that the principles of democracy and autonomy in
the All India Muslim League are being subordinated to the arbitrary wishes
of a single individual who seeks to rule as an omnipotent authority even
over the destiny of 33 millions of Muslims in the province of Bengal who
occupy the key position in Indian Muslim politics. 30

Begum Shah Nawaz and Sir Sultan Ahmed, unlike Sir Sikander, Fazlul
Haq, and Assam’s Saadullah, refused to resign from the viceroy’s council
and were, therefore, expelled from the Muslim League for five years. For
the begum it was a particularly bitter pill to swallow, since she had been
so close to Jinnah during the Round Table conferences in London. She was
later to relent and would return to the League’s fold, but only after her half
decade of ostracism. “The Government in the teeth of our opposition . . .
tried to manoeuvre and wean some of our members by associating them
with this scheme,” Jinnah remarked during his Id Day message that October.

Three of them were provincial Premiers of whom two were members
of the Working Committee. Well, you know what happened. I am
glad, and we have reason to be proud that the British Government
have been taught a lesson. Out of evil cometh good! Muslim India
from one end to another demonstrated that it was solidly behind the
Muslim League. I hope in future our opponents will learn that it is
futile to attempt to create disruptions in our ranks. That chapter is
now closed. 31

Jinnah withdrew the League’s elected members from the Central Legisla¬
ture at this time more forcefully to impress upon the viceroy his dissatisfac-

I.nil "ixl His sister in Pakistan's Karachi, 1947

LAHORE TO DELHI (1940-42) 193

to deal with than Jinnah. That August Jinnah called his Working Committee
to Bombay to deal with this challenge from Simla. Sir Sikander, Fazlul Haq,
and Saadullah tried in vain to argue that they had joined the viceroy’s de¬
fence council as provincial premiers, rather than as representatives of Mus¬
lim opinion. Jinnah gave them no option but to quit the council or leave the
League. Sikander, after a long private talk with Jinnah, agreed to abide by
the decision of the committee. Sikander’s capitulation was followed im¬
mediately by his resignation and that of Sir Saadullah from the viceroy’s de¬
fence council. Fazlul Haq, however, proved less pliable; and though he
promised to resign from the viceroy’s council, he was most dilatory about
doing it. But he did resign from both the National Defence Council and the
Working Committee of the League, "As a mark of protest against the arbi¬
trary use of powers vested in its President,” voicing the strongest opposi¬
tion to Jinnah’s leadership and articulating what may in retrospect be
viewed as a nascent “Bangladeshi” position against West Pakistani domi¬
nance. The Muslim premier of Bengal argued that “recent events have forc¬
ibly brought home to me that the principles of democracy and autonomy in
the All India Muslim League are being subordinated to the arbitrary wishes
of a single individual who seeks to rule as an omnipotent authority even
over the destiny of 33 millions of Muslims in the province of Bengal who
occupy the key position in Indian Muslim politics.” 30

Three of them were provincial Premiers of whom two were members
of the Working Committee. Well, you know what happened. I am
glad, and we have reason to be proud that the British Government
have been taught a lesson. Out of evil cometh good! Muslim India
from one end to another demonstrated that it was solidly behind the
Muslim League, I hope in future our opponents will learn that it is
futile to attempt to create disruptions in our ranks. That chapter is
now closed. 81

|inmili withdrew the Longue's elected members from the Central Legisla¬
ture at tills lime more forcefully to Impress upon the viceroy Ills dissutlslue

194

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

tion with the government’s behavior, and he called for a “clear” declaration
of British policy toward all Muslim countries, demanding that Great Britain
affirm its non-intervention policy with regard to universal Muslim “sover¬
eignty and independence.” He appointed Ispahani to Fazlul Haq’s seat on
the Working Committee.

Japan s startling victories in the wake of Pearl Harbor now raised the
specter of an Axis invasion of India from the East. Since expanding his ex-
rcutive council, Linlithgow had been pressing Churchill’s cabinet for per¬
mission to release Nehru as well as other key Congress leaders from jail, in
icsponse to demands from his non-official advisers. The viceroy was eager
lo show his new members that they could, in fact, “get things done.” But
('lmrchill was reluctant, arguing that “Undoubtedly the release of these
prisoners as an act of clemency will be proclaimed as a victory for Gandhi’s
party. Nehru and others will commit fresh offences requiring whole process
of trial and conviction to be gone through again. You will get no thanks
from any quarter.” 32 Still, Linlithgow insisted, Amery agreed; most of the
cabinet closed ranks behind them, so that early in December when Chur¬
chill convened his War Cabinet to debate the issue he sensed their mood
immediately upon looking “round the room and said somewhat sorrowfully
I give; in,’ adding sotto voce ‘when you lose India don’t blame me.’ ” 33

Jinnah journeyed to Nagpur on his birthday to address the All-India
Muslim Students Federation on December 26, 1941. “My young friends, to¬
day you compare yourselves with what was the position of the Muslims
even three years ago,” Jinnah told them.

I' ivo years ago it was wretched. Ten years ago you were dead. . . .

I he Muslim League has given you a goal which in my judgment is
going to lead you to the promised land where we shall establish our
Pakistan. People may say what they like and talk as they like. Of
course, lit! who laughs last, laughs best. 34

I'a/lul Haq resigned his League ministry in Calcutta, opting to head a
new coalition of his Proja party members and Hindu Mahasabhites led by
Iholr national vice-president, Dr. Shyama Prasad Mookerjee. He persuaded
the nuwitb ol Dacca to join his new cabinet, which Ispahani called going
over to tht! enemy. 35 By that unexpected coup, Haq proved again his po¬
litical dexterity and durability. “The old fox who is now called the black
' I" ' I * °1 Bnrisal [Ilaqs hometown], is playing at one game only and that is
lo gain time/’ bemoaned Ispahani. And Jinnah asked at Nagpur:

And in Bengal, what is the Congress Party doing? The Congress
Parly has supported this new coalition ministry formed by Mr. Haq,
mid by virtue nl It he was able to form a government mid continue lo

195

LAHORE TO DELHI (1940-42)

be the Premier. . . . Now I make a Christmas gift of Mr. Haq to
Lord Linlithgow! I make another New Year’s gift of the Nawab of
Dacca to the Governor of Bengali I am very glad and I am happy
that Muslim India is rid of these men who are guilty of the grossest
treachery and betrayal of the Muslims. 36

Both Bengali leaders were expelled from the League, “weeded out” as Jin¬
nah put it.

Linlithgow urged Sir Roger Lumley, the governor of Bombay, to invite
Jinnah “to a meal,” and he did so in mid-January 1942 when Oxford profes¬
sor Reginald Coupland arrived on his unofficial tour in search of a “cre¬
ative” constitutional settlement. “I asked Jinnah to lunch and he came to¬
day,” Lumley reported, and

Jinnah was most friendly throughout, and, if there is any effect from
this social contact with him, I think it would be favourable. After
lunch I had a talk with him, which I had intended would be a short
one, so that he could then tackle Coupland: but at the first opening
he proceeded to give me an exposition of the Muslim League position
which lasted for three quarters of an hour. It was all most friendly,
very logical, and well argued from the Muslim League point of view;
but there seemed to me to be no indication at all of any change in
his position. He appeared quite satisfied with our attitude, although
... he expressed some fears that the British Press and public opinion
would be taken in by Congress and other Hindu propaganda. 37

Lumley was “considerably impressed” by the logic of Jinnah’s arguments,
but in the aftermath of their talk saw no prospect for any "solution” to the
constitutional “deadlock.” “India is hopelessly, and I suspect irremediably
split by racial and religious divisions which we cannot bridge, and which
become more acute as any real transfer of power by us draws nearer,” Lin¬
lithgow reported to Amery before the end of January 1942. 38 Attlee was
“distinctly disturbed” by Linlithgow’s “defeatist” position; he informed
Amery, after reading it, that he had lost considerable “confidence in the
Viceroy’s judgment,” suggesting that perhaps “someone” from Home should
now be sent to India “charged with a mission to try to bring the political
leaders together.” 30 Labour’s candidate for that job was Sir Stafford Cripps,
who just returned from Moscow where he had served as the British am¬
bassador.

Jinnah left Bombay on February 10, taking an all-day and overnight
train to Calcutta. A jubilant crowd awaited him at Howrah Station and es¬
corted him in gala procession to Mohammad Ali Park, over which he
hoisted the Muslim I.tmgiie Hag on February 13. H-M2. "Up to the present

197

JINN AH OF PAKISTAN

moment, Muslims were absolutely demoralised, 3 ’ said the Quaid-i-Azam,
whose personal preoccupation with death and dying had by now infected
most of his political pronouncements, "Our blood had become cold, our
llcsli was not capable of working and the Muslim nation was, for all prac-
I ical pin poses, dead. To-day we find that our blood circulation is improving.
Om flesh is getting stronger and, above all, our mind is getting more clari¬
fied." 40 From Calcutta he was driven to Serajganj in East Bengal to preside
over the Bengal Provincial Muslim League Conference. "Ladies and gentle¬
men, the Muslim League has many opponents. We are going through a life
and death struggle. . . . We must stand on our own legs and rely on our
own strength if we are to achieve anything in this world. 3 ’ 41

The unexpected fall of Singapore on February 15, 1942, where a British
Indian garrison of some 60,000 troops surrendered to Japan with hardly a
shot being fired, sent fresh chills of anxiety through New Delhi and Simla
as well as through Whitehall. “The really difficult point is how to reconcile
mu pledge about agreement with the criticism that we are deliberately
holding up all progress by giving a blackmailing veto to the minorities,"
Amory wrote to Linlithgow in late February, briefly setting out what would
essentially be Cripps’s proposals.

II (here are sufficient Provinces who want to get together and form a
Dominion the dissident Provinces should be free to stand out and
oil her come in after a period of option or be set up at the end of it
us Dominions of their own. Jinnah could not quarrel with that nor,
on the other hand, could Congress feel that it is denied the op¬
portunity of complete independence for that part of India which it
controls. 42

I lie India Office prepared a note’ for Britain’s War Cabinet on the pos-
s i I ’ I * * ■"•pact of constitutional changes in India or her army, which had more
Ilian doubled in size since the war’s start to over one million. In the prewar
lodiim army soldiers had expressed anxieties about their own future if the
bnlisli raj “surrendered” to Congress demands. There was still “a strong
l ,, <l"ig that I he British officer is the surest guardian of the soldier’s inter-
< sis, Whitehall reported. “It is difficult to say how any concession to Con¬
gress would assist the war effort in respect to the Military personnel of the
Army. On I lie oilier band it might result in the ruin of the Indian Army as
nl present cons Hinted.'’ 48 Armed with so formidable a note, Amory advised
I lie prime minister that "Any declaration of Indian policy for the future
miisl make it clear, unequivocally, that we stand by our pledge of 1940, to
the Moslems and llie Princes, that they are not In l»* coerced into any sys¬
tem nl Indian (lovcniiiienl of which they disapprove This Is in any ease yl-

LAHORE TO DELHI (1940-42)

tal at present, in view of possible effects upon the Moslem element in the
Indian Army.” 44

Sir Stafford Cripps was brought into Britain’s War Cabinet that Febru¬
ary as lord privy seal and made leader of the House of Commons. He was
appointed to serve on Deputy Prime Minister Attlee’s India committee of
the War Cabinet and helped draft what that committee considered an ap¬
propriate “declaration” by the month’s end, promising “to lay down in pre¬
cise and clear terms the steps” by which His Majesty’s government planned
to create a new Indian union, to become a free and equal dominion within
the British Commonwealth of Nations. Before agreement could be reached
on the proposed declaration, however, Rangoon fell to the Japanese blitz
across Southeast Asia. Jinnah wired Churchill to warn against the ‘ plausible-
subtle and consequently more treacherous” proposals of Sapru and his col¬
leagues, “patrol agents for the Congress. If the British Government is stam¬
peded into the trap laid for them Moslem India would be sacrificed with
most disastrous consequences, especially in regard to the war effort,” 45 cau¬
tioned the Quaid-i-Azam. On February 22, at a Delhi meeting of the League s
Working Committee, Jinnah stated that “direct revolt” would follow any
British acceptance of Sapru’s proposed unitary constitutional scheme of
reforms.

Churchill, therefore, decided that a declaration spelling out the constitu¬
tional process for transforming British India into a dominion was too dan¬
gerous, opting instead to send Cripps out to India to sound out the ‘parties
on the spot as to their feelings about a proposal the cabinet approved. The
document on which we have agreed represents our united policy,” Chur¬
chill informed Linlithgow in early March. “If that is rejected by the Indian
parties for whose benefit it has been devised, our sincerity will be proved to
the world and we shall stand together and fight on it here, should that ever
be necessary.” 46

Prime Minister Churchill rose in the House of Commons at noon on
Wednesday, March 11, 1942, to proclaim in his uniquely inspiring baritone
that “The crisis in the affairs of India arising out of the advance of Japan
lias made us wish to rally all the forces of Indian life to shield their land
from the menace of the invader.” 47 He then announced the decision to send
no less distinguished a member of the War Cabinet to India than the lord
privy seal, who “carries with him the full confidence of His Majesty s Gov¬
ernment and will strive in their name to procure the necessary measure of
assent not only from the Hindu majority but also from those great minori¬
ties amongst which the Muslims are the most important.” Cripps was thus
luimdx'd on the most frustrating mission of Ills life.

Cripps flow into Karachi on March 22. was "qimninleoned" In isolation

198

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

overnight, and touched down at New Delhi’s airport the following day,
“Pakistan Day,” the second anniversary of the Lahore resolution that was
celebrated in Delhi by a mile-long procession and a mass public meeting
addressed by Jinnah. “I can say without fear of contradiction that the Mus¬
lim League stands more firmly for the freedom and independence of this
country than any other party,” the Quaid-i-Azam told a crowd of 50,000
Muslims in Urdu Park. “We are asking for justice and fairplay. We have no
designs upon our sister communities. We want to live in this land as a free
and independent nation. We are not a minority but a nation.” 48 Referring to
Cripps’s mission, Jinnah said:

There is the fear that he is a friend of the Congress. He has enjoyed
the hospitality of Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru. . . . That is all true but
we should not be afraid on that score. Don’t get cold feet. . . . We
are prepared to face all consequences if any scheme or solution
which is detrimental to the interests of Muslims is forced upon us.

We shall not only not accept it but resist it to the utmost of our
capacity. If we have to die in the attempt we shall die fighting. 49

Cripps met with Maulana Azad, then out of jail, on March 25. The Con¬
gress presidents English, he learned, was not as good as his Persian or
Arabic. Azad insisted that to mobilize Indians “effectively” it was “neces¬
sary to give them control of the defence of their country.” Cripps pointed
out that strategically India had to be regarded as part of “a much greater
theatre of war.” Azad reiterated his point, however, and Cripps decided
that what Congress really wanted was the “appearance and name of an In¬
dian Defence Minister, not actual control over “the movement of troops or
other military arrangements.” 50

Jinnah arrived at the viceroy’s palace just as Azad was leaving. Cripps
explained that he had not taken the Muslim League or Pakistan “propa¬
ganda very seriously during his last visit two and a half years ago but as¬
sured Jinnah that he had “changed” his view because of the “change in the
communal feeling in India and the growth of the Pakistan movement.”
Cripps then handed Jinnah the document he had brought from London,
“which I think rather surprised him in the distance it went to meet the
Pakistan case. He stated of course that he was not prepared to give any
views on it but we had a long discussion as to its effect, especially upon
Bengal and the Punjab, and the main thing with which he was concerned
was whether they would have the effective right to opt out of the constitu¬
tion in the (went of their so desiring.” 81 Jinnah then “promised to lay the
matter before his Working Committee in Delhi and to come back and see
me Immediately iillerwurds, . , . lie was extremely cordial and when we

199

LAHORE TO DELHI (1940-42)

parted expressed the view to me that the one thing that mattered was to be
able to mobilise the whole of India behind her own defence and that he
was personally most anxious to achieve this.” 52 Expert negotiator that he
was, Jinnah wisely refrained in his opening meeting with Cripps from any
“pernickety criticism.”

Cripps’s meeting with Gandhi on March 27 did not begin on a happy
note. Gandhi considered it “extremely inadvisable” to publish the document
and urged Cripps to refrain from doing so, asking what Jinnah thought.

I told him that he had suggested that, in view of the danger of leak¬
age, it would be wise to publish it before too long; and he inter¬
preted this as being an indication that Jinnah would accept the
scheme. ... I then asked him how, supposing Jinnah were to accept
the scheme and Congress were not to, he would himself advise me to
proceed. He said that in these circumstances the proper course
would be for me to throw the responsibility upon Jinnah and tell
him that he must now try to get Congress in either by negotiating
direct with them or by meeting them in association with myself. He
thought that if it was pointed out to Jinnah what a very great posi¬
tion this would give him in India if he succeeded, that he might
take on the job and that he might succeed. 53
It was one of Gandhi’s most brilliant ideas, turning over premier power—
and responsibility—to Jinnah, but no British viceroy or cabinet leader had
the courage or wisdom to try the idea.

On March 29, Nehru came to breakfast with Cripps, and then both <>l
them went to Birla House to see Gandhi, Azad, and others of the Working
Committee of the Congress. Cripps listened and argued for hours. “The gen
eral attitude of Nehru, who was tired and not well, was mild and concilia
tory and he left me in complete doubt as to whether Congress was more m
less decided not to accept it and that it was not worth arguing or pi css lug
for any alteration or whether he was not inclined to press his particular oh
jections in view of the general character of the scheme and its grant ol her
self-government in India.” 64 Less than a week gone by, and Cripps’s crisp
British confidence was fast dissolving in the miasma of Indian complexity,
ambiguity, and transcendental doubt.

Cripps had been counting on his close friendship with Nehru and Krishna
Morion as the key to resolving the communal puzzle that had baffled Mor
ley, shattered Montagu, eluded Ramsay MacDonald, flabbergasted Irwin,
destroyed Molilal Nehru, and had all but driven Jinnah into permanent ex¬
ile, in Hampstead. I lc truly believed, or at least desperately hoped he might
achieve In a fortnight whal the best brains of England and India had failed
to accomplish over the past quarter-century ol concentraled '’ll"il and

200

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN
countless futile hours of intense negotiation. Perhaps it was just that with
stakes so high, he could not resist a roll at that fatal game, suspecting as
one his confidants put it, that "if he brought this settlement off, Cripps
would certainly replace Winston.”” His fatal Haw was, however that he be¬
lieved himself omnipotent. Forgetting what Kipling had written of his well-
intentioned forebears, he hoped to “hustle tile East.”™

At this juncture President Franklin D. Roosevelt sent his former assis¬
tant secretary of war. Colonel Louis Johnson, out to India as his personal
representative, introducing Johnson to Linlithgow as a man of “broad ex¬
perience with problems relating to military supply,” who was selected for
this important mission because of his outstanding ability and high charac¬
ter 7 Churchill, Amery, and Linlithgow were all anxious about the possible
political ’ implications of a secret agenda for Colonel Johnson’s mission.
Linlithgow s representative in Washington wrote that Roosevelt seemed to
think that the plan concerning immediate federation did not go far enough
and he felt “that complete autonomy, including power to raise armies,
should be given to provinces.” 58

As soon as Linlithgow, Amery, and Churchill learned that Johnson and
Roosevelt would do nothing to twist their political arms by way of con¬
ceding more to a non-cooperating (“shilly-shallying," as Johnson put it)
Congress, the Cripps game was over. Only Cripps refused to believe he was
finished. He kept meeting with Indian leaders, holding press conferences,
sending longer and longer secret telegrams home, and doggedly flogging
the horse that had died under him. The once bright and rising star of his
political career went into eclipse under India’s blinding sun. On April 2,
Azad and Nehru handed Cripps the Congress Working Committee’s resolu¬
tion rejecting his offer. Instead of thanking them and flying home, Cripps
wired the text of that resolution to Churchill and set up a meeting with
Azad, Nehru, and field marshal Sir Archibald Wavell (1883-1950), The
tight-lipped commander-in-chief, who replaced Linlithgow as viceroy the
following year, was then fighting a losing battle in Malaya and Burma, des¬
perately hoping he could keep the Japanese from smashing through India’s
Eastern wall of rugged mountainous forests. He had no time, and less tal¬
ent, for political gamesmanship. With one glass eye, and little to smile
about, Wavell’s was hardly a personality to appeal to Nehru, Azad, or
Cripps. Nor was he ready voluntarily to release any of the military strings
he controlled. Still Cripps was determined to try to bring Nehru and Wavell
into harness.

Jinnah left Delhi cm Thursday, April 2, taking the night (ruin to Allah¬
abad where the animal session of the Muslim League start'd that Friday. A
cheering crowd greeted him with slamfs of “Quold-i-A/.uni Zlndabad!'' at

LAHORE TO DELHI (1940-42) 201

Allahabad’s Central Railway Station, then escorted him through more than
a hundred green tinsel-decorated arches of triumph that led to the packed
pandal in Mahmudabad’s garden. Jinnah presented his brief of Cripps’s
proposals in a clear, succinct manner, saying, now that the scheme was
really dead, how “deeply disappointed” all Muslims were to find that the
“entity and integrity of the Muslim nation has not been expressly recog¬
nized. Any attempt to solve the problem of India by the process of evading
the real issues and by over-emphasizing the territorial entity of the prov¬
inces, which are mere accidents of British policy, and administrative divi¬
sion is fundamentally wrong. Muslim India will not be satisfied unless the
right of national self-determination is unequivocally recognized.” 59

On Easter Sunday of that year, Colonel Johnson met Cripps for the first
time at the viceroy’s house over lunch and each recognized a potential ally
in the other, for both were liberal legal minds who felt as far removed in¬
tellectually from the viceroy and his commander-in-chief as they were cul¬
turally from Nehru and Azad. Both enjoyed more confidence in high places
in London and Washington, moreover, than either did in New Delhi or
Simla. And each, in his own way, had fallen under the spell of Nehru’s cos¬
mopolitan charm. So in the spirit of Easter Sunday they joined forces,
hoping to resurrect the mission that had truly expired on Good Friday.
They moved with great energy, resourcefulness, and top secrecy, meeting
Nehru, Azad, and other leaders of Congress at all hours of day and night,
convincing themselves that there was, indeed, light at the end of India s
constitutional tunnel. They came to believe that all Congress really wanted
was control over the Ministry of Defence, so they worked out an elaborate,
ingenious formula, whereby that ministry could nominally be put under an
Indian, while all of its real martial responsibilities would remain under the
commander-in-chief, who would instead be called minister of war—and they
actually thought that would suffice to solve India’s problem. Cripps had
oven drawn up a list of Indian cabinet ministers for the new “national gov¬
ernment” he was going to install, and Congress President Azad was his
choice for home minister in charge of police—Azad, whom Jinnah would not
speak to and referred to as a “show-hoy Muslim.” Johnson thought he had
convinced Nehru of the wisdom of cooperating, and of the surety that he
could “carry” Congress, just as ho thought Cripps could “swing’ Churchill
Into line. It was all an illusion, spun out of India’s torrid heat.

Many cables wore exchanged between London and India in the next
few days, including one from Churchill informing Cripps that Johnson was
not Roosevelt's representative "In any mailer outside the specific mission
dealing with Indian munitions and kindred topic’s on which lie was sent
All Iho cables were mmoeessiiry. Congress turned down the proposal dr

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

spite its revised form, on April 10, 1942-just as Gandhi had predicted they
would the first time he met with Cripps. Explaining his party’s rejection of
llie offer, Congress president Azad wrote Cripps:

We are yet prepared to assume responsibility provided a truly Na¬
tional Government is formed. . . . But in the present the National
Government must be a Cabinet Government with full power, and
must not merely be a continuation of the Viceroy’s Executive Coun¬
cil. . . . We would point out to you that the suggestions we have
put forward are not ours only but may be considered to be the unani¬
mous demand of the Indian people. On these matters there is no dif¬
ference of opinion among various groups and parties. 81

rhcre is no foundation for that assertion,” Jinnah told the press as soon
as he read Azad’s final assertion several days later. “Muslim India has re¬
pudiated that claim. We maintain that the Congress does not represent not
only the Musalmans of India but even a large body of the Hindus, the De¬
pressed Classes, the non-Brahmins and other minorities.” He also repudi¬
aled all negotiations that Congress had carried on with Cripps “over the
head of all Other parties,” reiterating what had been his basic position for
over two years: “If all parties agree to the Muslim demand for Pakistan or
partition and Muslim right of self-determination, details to be settled after
I lie war, then we are prepared to come to any reasonable adjustment with
regard to the present.” 62

On April 12, 1942, Cripps wired Churchill, “There is clearly no hope of
agreement and I shall start home on Sunday.” To Azad he wrote: “You sug¬
gest a truly National Government’ be formed which must be 'Cabinet Gov¬
ernment with lull power.’ Without constitutional changes of a most compli¬
cated character and on a very large scale this would not be possible as you
realise. . . . The proposals of His Majesty’s Government went as far as pos¬
sible. IU Hoosevelt urged Churchill to “postpone” Cripps’s departure, report¬
ing that in the United States “The feeling is almost universally held that the
i lead leek has been caused by the unwillingness of the British Government
lo concede to the Indians the right of self-government, notwithstanding the
willingness of the Indians to entrust technical, military and naval defense
control to the competent British authorities. American public opinion can¬
not understand why, if the British Government is willing to permit the com-
ponenl parts of India to secede from the British Empire after the war, it is
not willing lo permit them to enjoy wluit is tantamount to self-government
during (he war" 04 Churchill chose to pocket that cable rather than show it
lo his cabinet or use It to wire Cripps back to New Delhi from Karachi,

LAHORE TO DELHI (1940-42 ) 203

where he just landed. Churchill had not, after all, become prime minister to
preside over the dissolution of His Majesty’s Empire.

The Working Committee of the Muslim League issued its resolution on
the Cripps offer shortly after Congress resolved upon rejection.

The Committee, while expressing their gratification that the possibil¬
ity of Pakistan is recognised by implication by providing for the es¬
tablishment of two or more independent Unions in India, regret that
... no alternative proposals are invited. In view of the rigidity of
the attitude of His Majesty’s Government with regard to the funda¬
mentals not being open to any modification, the Committee have no
alternative but to say that the proposals in the present form are un¬
acceptable. . . . The Musalmans cannot be satisfied by such a Dec¬
laration on a vital question affecting their future destiny, and de¬
mand a clear and precise pronouncement on the subject. Any attempt
to solve the future problem of India by the process of evading the
real issue is to court disaster. 65

Once again, Jinnah had raised the minimal terms for negotiating any settle¬
ment to the most persistent political problem of recent Indian history. Paki¬
stan was hardly a “pernickety” demand.

205

Dawn in Delhi

( 1942 - 43 )

Jinnah’s position remained firm throughout the remaining years of World
War II. He demanded no less than parity with Congress on any council of
government and open recognition of the Muslims’ right to Pakistan in any
future settlement formula. As Congress became more hostile and non-
cooperative, the government of India and His Majesty’s government looked
more than ever to Muslim soldiers and Muslim League leaders for the sup¬
port they required to hold India. Jinnah’s stock rose to new heights in Lon¬
don as well as in Simla and New Delhi.

Jinnah’s political posture was rarely misread at Whitehall. “I don’t sup¬
pose Jinnah will want to seem less nationalist than Congress and therefore
to come in under the existing constitution,” Amery wrote Linlithgow, thank¬
ful that Cripps was then ancient history and speculating on possible future
reforms.

If he does, I suppose you could give him certain seats, balancing his
men with Ambedkar and possibly a new Hindu or two, but still re¬
taining the majority of your existing Executive? Or you may simply
decide to drop all idea of bringing in political leaders from either of
the two main parties? . . . The Muslim League, I suppose, will still
be officially non-co-operative, but probably more co-operative than
hitherto in practice in view of the definite concession to the possi¬
bility of Pakistan that we have made? 1

In the wake of Cripps, the governor of the Punjab reported that “the
Sikh community were very seriously perturbed by the potentially fksiparous
nature of the War Cabinet's proposals." Sikhs were afraid that if the Punjab
refused to uootule loan all India confederacy, that wealthy Muslim ■majority

DAWN IN DELHI ( 1942-43 )

province once ruled by Sikh Maharajas would be enveloped by “the outer
darkness of Pakistan. They regarded themselves as being in danger of ever¬
lasting subjection to an unsympathetic and tyrannical Muhammadan Raj.” 2
Sikh-Muslim antipathy had roots that went back to seventeenth century
mughal imperial rule. “We are doing what we can to deal with the situa¬
tion,” Governor Glancy assured the viceroy. It was a most important warn¬
ing, passed on to Whitehall by Linlithgow, since martial Sikhs numbered
second only to Muslims in the British Indian army.

“Blood and tears are going to be our lot whether we like them or not,”
Nehru predicted, all too accurately, at a press conference in Allahabad in
mid-April after Cripps flew home. “Our blood and tears will flow; maybe
the parched soil of India needs them so that the fine flower of freedom may
grow again.” 3

Cripps held a press conference in London on April 22 and insisted “The
problem now becomes not a political one, but the problem of the defence
of India, and in that I have had the assurance from many of the leaders
that they are going to co-operate to their utmost.” 4 Asked if he had invited
Nehru and Jinnah to come to London, he replied negatively, feeling “quite
sure” that neither of them would want to leave India in “existing circum¬
stances” even if they were invited.

In Madras, Chakravarti Rajagopalachari (C. R.) now dramatically
sought to lead Congress in the direction of co-operation both with the Brit¬
ish war effort and the Muslim League. He presided over a meeting of
forty-six members of Madras Congress legislators and proposed two resolu¬
tions, agreement on which was reached in late April. The first argued that
since it was “impossible for the people to think in terms of neutrality or
passivity during invasion,” it was “absolutely and urgently necessary” for
Congress to “remove every obstacle” toward establishing a “National Ad¬
ministration.” It therefore urged the All-India Congress Party to “acknowl¬
edge” the Muslim League’s “claim for separation,” thereby removing all
doubts and fears in this regard,” and to invite the League for “consultation
for the purpose of arriving at agreement and securing of national Govern¬
ment to meet present emergency.” 5 The second resolution requested permis¬
sion of the All-India Congress for the Madras Congress to unite with the
Muslim League and other provincial parties to restore popular government,
as a coalition ministry, to Madras. Both resolutions passed overwhelmingly.
II was the first important break in Congress’s non-cooperating ranks, a sig¬
nificant victory for Jinnah’s policy and the British, and a direct challenge
to Gandhi and Nehru.

The All India Congress met the following week, repudiating C. R, and
his Madras resolutions, On April 30, 11)42, he resigned .. the Working

206

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

Committee. Gandhi remained in Wardha, but sent his loving disciple Mira-
behn (Madelaine Slade) to Allahabad with a resolution he drafted for pre¬
sentation to the Congress, stating:

Whereas the British War Cabinet’s proposals sponsored by Sir Stafford
Cripps have shown up British imperialism in its nakedness as never
before . . . The A.I.C.C. is of opinion that Britain is incapable of
defending India. It is natural that whatever she does is for her own
defence. There is an eternal conflict between Indian and British in¬
terests. . . . The Indian army has been maintained up till now mainly
to hold India in subjugation. It has been completely segregated from
the general population who can in no sense regard it as their own. . . .
Japan’s quarrel is not with India. She is warring against the British
Empire. India’s participation in the war has not been with the con¬
sent of the representatives of the Indian people. It was purely a
British act. If India were freed her first step would probably be to
negotiate with Japan. . . . The A.I.C.C. is, therefore, of opinion that
the British should withdraw from India. 6

Nehru argued that Colonel Johnson and Franklin Roosevelt might help
India win freedom if Congress were more supportive of the Allied cause. A
compromise resolution was agreed upon by the Working Committee;
Gandhi essentially had his way, though the resolution passed on May 1 also
professed India’s “antipathy to Nazism and Fascism as to imperialism.” On
June fi, however, Gandhi wrote:

I see no difference between the Fascist or Nazi powers and the Allies.

All are exploiters, all resort to ruthlessness to the extent required to
compass their end. America and Britain are very great nations, but
I heir greatness will count as dust before the bar of dumb humanity,
whether African or Asiatic. . . . They have no right to talk of human
liberty and all else unless they have washed their hands clean of the
pollution. 7

Two American journalists interviewed Gandhi that week in Wardha,
mid one asked “But what does a free India mean, if, as Mr. Jinnah said,
Muslims will not accept Hindu rule?” The Mahatma replied: “I have not
asked the British to hand over India to the Congress or to the Hindus. Let
them entrust India to Cod or in modern parlance to anarchy. Then all the
parties will fight one another like dogs, or will, when real responsibility
faces them, come to a reasonable agreement. I shall expect non-violence to
arise out ol Ihal chaos." H Gandhi was reminded by a reporter for The Hindu
I lint until recently lie Intel always said there could be no Su'uraj without
Hindu Muslim unity, mid then lie was asked why lie had nl lute Inslsled

207

DAWN IN DELHI ( 1942-43)

there would be “no unity until India has. achieved independence? The
seventy-three-year-old Mahatma answered:

Time is a merciless enemy. I have been asking myself why every
whole-hearted attempt made by all including myself to reach unity
has failed, and failed so completely that I have entirely fallen from
grace and am described by some Muslim papers as the greatest
enemy of Islam in India. It is a phenomenon I can only account for
by the fact that the third power, even without deliberately wishing
it, will not allow real unity to take place. Therefore I have come to
the resultant conclusion that the two communities will come together
almost immediately after the British power comes to a final end in
India. 9

Jinnah immediately responded to this with, “I am glad that at last Mr.
Gandhi has openly declared that unity and Hindu-Muslim settlement can
only come after the achievement of India’s independence and has thereby
thrown off the cloak that he had worn for the last 22 years.” 10

The All-India Congress met again in early August. Gandhi told his fol¬
lowers: “This is a crucial hour. . . . We shall get our freedom by fighting.
It cannot fall from the skies. . . . The Britishers will have to give us free¬
dom when we have made sufficient sacrifices and proved our strength. . . .
At a time when I am about to launch the biggest fight in my life there can
be no hatred for the British in my heart. The thought that because they are
in difficulties I should give them a push is totally absent from my mind. 11
Sardar Patel was reported to have said that the British army was ready to
abandon India, much the way they had Burma, and that the Satyagraha
campaign would prove victorious in a week. “If it ends in a week it will be
a miracle and if this happens it would mean melting the British heart,
Gandhi said, adding:

Maybe wisdom will dawn on the British and they will understand
that it will be wrong for them to put in jail the very people who
want to fight for them. Maybe ... a change may come in Mr.
Jinnah’s mind after all. He will think that those who are fighting are
the sons of the soil and if he sits quiet of what use would Pakistan
be for him. . . . God has helped us. . . . When I raised the slogan
“Quit India” the people in India who were then feeling despondent
felt I had placed before them a new thing. If you want real freedom
you will have to come together and such coming together will create
true democracy. 12

The War Cabinet transmitted full authority to Linlithgow to arrest
(in i kII ii anil 11 ie Congress Working Committee at any time ho deemed ap¬
propriate', London considered Congress's inosl recent resolution as “open

209

208 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

rebellion” against the government of India. Sikander warned Governor
Glancy of his suspicion that Gandhi might try to “make terms with Jinnah
by an out-and-out offer of Pakistan and then present a united front to Gov¬
ernment.” 13 Gandhi did, in fact, write on August 8 that

Provided the Muslim League co-operated fully with the Congress
demand for immediate independence without the slightest reserva¬
tion . . . the Congress will have no objection to the British Govern¬
ment transferring all the powers it today exercises to the Muslim
League on behalf of the whole of India. . . . And the Congress will
not only not obstruct any Government that the Muslim League may
form on behalf of the people, blit will even join the Government in
running the machinery of the free State. This is meant in all serious¬
ness and sincerity. 14

Such an offer might have tempted Jinnah if he had believed in or trusted
Gandhi, but just a few days earlier, he had told the press: “Mr. Gandhi’s
conception of ‘Independent India’ is basically different from ours. . . . Mr.
Gandhi by independence means Congress raj. I ask Mr. Gandhi to give up
the game of fooling the Musalmans by insinuating that we depend upon the
British for the achievement of our goal of Pakistan. . . . Hands off the
Muslims.” 15 By August 8, all was in readiness within the vast machine of
the government of India. The Aga Khan’s palace in Poona was chosen as
the most secure, comfortable, and convenient “prison” for Gandhi and a
select coterie of his family and closest followers, including Sarojini Naidu
and Admiral Slade’s daughter Mirabehn. The rest of the Congress Working
(Committee was to be jailed in Ahmednagar Fort.

“Every one of you should, from this moment onwards, consider yourself
a free man or woman, and act as if you are free and are no longer under
I he heel of this imperialism,” Gandhi told his Congress colleagues after they
passed his “Quit India” resolution on the evening of August 8, 1942. “Here
is a mantra, a short one, that I give you. You may imprint it on your hearts
arid let every breath of yours give expression to it. The mantra is: ‘Do or
I )ie,’ We shall either free India or die in the attempt.” 16

Linlithgow waited no longer. Gandhi and the entire Congress Working
Committee were arrested next day before dawn. Gandhi’s final message to
the country was written at 5:00 a.m., shortly before he was taken into cus¬
tody: “Everyone is free to go the fullest length under ahimsa. Complete
deadlock by strikes and Other non-violent means. Satyagrahis must go out
to die and not to live. They must seek and face death. It is only when
individuals go out lo die that the nation will survive, Ka range i/a marangn,
|"Wo will Do or Di©"P v

DAWN IN DELHI ( 1942-43)

“I deeply regret that the Congress has finally declared war and has
launched a most dangerous mass movement in spite of numerous warnings
from various individuals, parties and organisations,” said Jinnah on August
9, 1942. Unlike Gandhi, he did not expect the war to end swiftly, nor did
he think the British would lose. He never believed, moreover, that Satya-
graha could remain nonviolent. He summoned his Working Committee to
Bombay on August 16 to plan the League’s strategy. They met in his house
for four days and formally resolved to “deplore” the decision of the All-
India Congress Committee to launch an “open rebellion” for the purpose of
“establishing Congress Hindu domination in India.” The result was only
“lawlessness and considerable destruction of life and property.’ 18 The
League view the “Quit India” movement as an attempt to “force the Musal¬
mans to submit and surrender to Congress terms and dictation.”

The violence started in Bombay a few days after Gandhi’s arrest, quickly
spreading to the United Provinces, Delhi, and Bihar. The speed and secrecy
of the government’s predawn sweep initially had a paralyzing impact every¬
where. Nor was the press permitted to report any disturbances or strikes.
By August 12, however, Linlithgow wrote to Amery, “In Delhi there has
been a good deal of trouble. Casualties may be heavy and some damage
has been done to property. Here again I attach no importance to it. It
is . . . due to millhands on strike, and the Chief Commissioner is quite
confident that he can handle the situation.” 19

But by mid-August over thirty people were dead in Bombay, where the
police reintroduced whipping as a regular form of punishment. Railway
lines all round Patna in Eastern India were torn up, and the British rushed
regular army troops to the “affected area,” with Linlithgow authorizing
“machine-gunning from air of saboteurs.” 20 No report of such martial vio¬
lence unleashed in Bihar was ever permitted to appear in any Indian news¬
paper. British Indian censors were kept busy keeping secret all movements
and operations of the Indian army aimed at “students and riff-raff, as the
viceroy called Gandhi’s Satyagrahis, adding: “I am not disturbed by the
situation. Most embarrassing developments are signs of extension of en¬
deavours to interrupt railway, telegraph and telephonic communication. This
may develop still further and is of course very difficult to dispose of effec¬
tively in a country of the size of India.” 21

A week after Gandhi’s arrest, Lord Linlithgow was pleased to note that
British action had "tidied up the Bombay position” and was “relieved” that
tilings were relatively “quiet in Delhi, for serious and prolonged rioting in
the cupilill city of n country is not a very good advertisement.” 22 Linlith¬
gow's minister of information and broadcasting, Sir (I, I'. Ramaswami Aiyar,
then reported that "Thr Muslim Langur has darlojwd raid fret and desires

210

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

to negotiate with Gandhi adding: “With my opinion of Jinnah I feel that
Government should forestall him. I go further and venture to assert that to
speak, as one Governor has spoken, of crushing the organisation is to follow
the wrong method.” 23 Aiyar had earlier appealed to the viceroy to allow
him to try to negotiate a settlement with Gandhi. But Linlithgow had refused
to permit him to see Gandhi and then tried in vain to convince him to stay in
ministerial harness. So Aiyar, formerly Travancore State’s prime minister
(diwan), returned to his Malabar home, which he hoped would remain un¬
der the protection of Britain’s paramount power.

“Jinnah has taken advantage of the latest turn in events to raise his
terms against us (not that that matters much), and also to raise them
against Congress,” Linlithgow informed Amery, calling that,*“a new and
highly ingenious move in Jinnah’s game of Poker: for it seemed to me incon¬
ceivable that Gandhi could accept the principle of Pakistan by whomsoever
It was backed. ... It remains pretty clear that there is going to be nothing
doing with either the Congress or the Muslim League while the war lasts.” 24

Ambassador Lord Halifax (ex-viceroy Lord Irwin) cabled a most secret
message from Washington in late August directly to foreign secretary An¬
il iony Eden reliably informing him that the U.S. consul-general (George R.
Morrell) in New Delhi had just reported to the State Department that the
Muslim League received most of its “financial support” from “the Indian
princes, Hindu as well as Mohammedan, the great Mohammedan landlords
and the English business community, particularly that of Calcutta.” This
report went on to explain “that the Indian princes and the British business
community support the Moslem League for the same reason that the Gov¬
ernment does namely, to prevent the representatives of India’ from obtain¬
ing power ... to avoid a definite settlement of India’s problems and to
prolong the present deadlock; and a secondary reason why the Moham¬
medan landlords are interested in supporting the Moslem League is that
they arc scared of the Congress Party’s belief in the national ownership of
all natural resources.” 25

At the end of August, Linlithgow wired Churchill complaining about
American “intervention.” The viceroy suddenly called the unrest

by far the most serious rebellion since that of 1857, the gravity and
extent of which we have so far concealed from the world for reasons
of military security. . . . Mob violence remains rampant over large
tracts of the countryside and I am by no means confident that we
may not sec in September a formidable attempt to renew this Wide¬
spread sabotage of our war effort. The lives of Europeans in outlying
places are today In jeopardy. If we bungle this business we shall
damage India irretrievably as a Iiuno for future allied operations and

211

DAWN IN DELHI ( 1942-43)

as a thoroughfare for U.S. help to China. . . . These are the cir¬
cumstances in which I am now threatened by visitations from Wen¬
dell Wilkie and Sherwood Eddy. The latter threatens to come to India
in the hope of helping by way of mediation. My experience of peripa¬
tetic Americans which is now extensive is that their zeal in teaching
us our business is in inverse ratio to their understanding of even the
most elementary of the problems with which we have to deal. 26

“Discussing the American invaders in Cabinet this morning much sym¬
pathy was expressed for you,” Amery assured Linlithgow on September 1,
“and a clear conviction that you must obviously refuse flatly to let anyone go
and see the prisoners. On the other hand, Eden and others felt that it could
only do good your finding time to talk to the better type of American and
get our case across. Wilkie is very well disposed and Winston adds espe¬
cially amenable to the influence of good champagne.” 27 Earlier in the same
cabinet meeting Churchill had spoken of “the present trouble as completely
disposed of and as evidence of the fact, which he has always insisted upon,
that Congress really represents hardly anybody except lawyers, money¬
lenders and the ‘Hindu priesthood.’ ” 28

By September 5, the Home department of the government of India re¬
ported that excluding Bihar, at least 340 Indians had been killed by police
fire since August 11 and 630 wounded, adding that the true total had to
be “considerably higher.” 29 Police had sustained twenty-eight deaths. Troops
were called out in no less than sixty places, at most of which “they [were]
still out.” Some fifty-seven battalions worth of regular British army soldiers
were used during that most bloody and tragic battle of World War II fought
hard against their own people inside India! There was no way of accurately
estimating the total number of dead and wounded in Bihar, since British
aircraft repeatedly strafed civilians with machine gun fire.

“I always dread a dishonourable settlement between the British Govern¬
ment and the Congress,” Jinnah told the international press assembled at
his house in New Delhi on September 13. Asked if there was chance of any
modification of his party’s demand, Jinnah replied: “If you start by asking
for sixteen annas [a full rupee’s worth!], there is room for bargaining. The
Muslim League has never put forward any demand which can by any rea¬
sonable man be characterised as unreasonable. The Muslim League stands
lor independence for the Hindus and for the Mussalmans. Hindu India has
got threo-lourtlis of India in its pocket and it is Hindu India which is bar¬
gaining to see if il can get the remaining one-fourth for itself and diddle us
out of it." 90

U.S. public pressure, urging Britain to "do something” for India,
mounted us the war progressed and American) arms, men, and money

212

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

213

played an ever greater role in shoring up Allied defenses preparing the
launching pads from which to recapture Western Europe and China as well
as Southeast Asia. “Harry Hopkins spoke to me last night about this strong
pressure now being exerted on the President,” Halifax warned Eden, “The
(Cabinet should realise how strongly public opinion is moving on these lines
and I hope it may be possible to say or do something to counteract it. Other¬
wise I fear American press, which on the whole has stood by us remarkably
well in recent Indian crisis, will rapidly and perhaps completely change its
attitude much to the detriment of Anglo-American relations.” 31

“What have we to be ashamed of in our Government of India?” Chur¬
chill asked Amery at a London garden party that September. “Why should
we be apologetic or say that we are prepared to go out at the instance of
some jackanapes? . . . For eighty years we have given it peace and internal
security and prosperity such as has never been known in the history of that
country. . . . We have looked after all classes, and we have protected the
interests of all sections, and I am not going to be a party to a policy of
scuttle.” 32

Churchill and his cabinet were most concerned about the rapidly mount¬
ing sterling balance debt that Britain owed India as a result of wartime
production and accelerated export of Indian goods to all fronts. Till this
war, India had always been indebted to Britain for rail, telegraph, and
other major public works construction schemes that had cost millions in
sterling. With half a million Indian troops serving overseas, and Indian
industries pouring out every variety of products for the war, the balance
was reversed, Great Britain finding itself in sterling bondage to her own
colony for an estimated £400 million. Churchill insisted that something
must be done quickly to wipe the slate clean, arguing “As Arthur Balfour
used to say ‘This is a singularly ill-contrived world but not so ill-contrived
as that/ ” 33 Amery and Linlithgow preferred to “let sleeping dogs lie,” know¬
ing what a deafening din of commercial and industrial Indian protest would
be raised over any British initiative at this point to change the formula of
Indo-British payments now that the balance had tipped in India’s favor.

In October of 1942, C. R. unveiled his plan for “resolving” India’s dead¬
lock, suggesting “that the Viceroy should act as the Crown would in a crisis
in England” and select the “most popular and most responsible” leaders of
India to assist him in running what would, in effect, be a “national govern¬
ment.” 34 Five “important Congressmen” (including any currently in prison)
should first be chosen, and then Jinnah could be invited “to join this Gov¬
ernment with as many men of his choice” as lie "liked.” There might, addi¬
tionally, he three others to represent the lesser minorities. C. II. believed
Chut neither Congress nor the League could reject his plan without "losing

DAWN IN DELHI ( 1942-43)

their leadership.” Jinnah, however, immediately categorized it with a num¬
ber of other “kite-flying” schemes and dismissed them all.

Jinnah addressed his party’s council in New Delhi on November 9 and
warned them of “propaganda to misrepresent the Muslim League ... as
allies of British imperialism in India, obstructing the path of its freedom
and independence,” which was, he claimed, currently circulating in the
United States. “To those who have been correctly following the trend of
events in India this allegation about obstructing the path of freedom is not
only disgraceful but untruthful,” he insisted, adding, “In these days the
vicious methods of propaganda are capable of misleading even intelligent
people.” 35 He knew all the hazards, felt the pressures, and was keenly con¬
scious of the passage of time, adding, “The sands are running out.” And
two days later, after C. R. and Jinnah had met, Linlithgow, whose twice
extended term as viceroy then also had a terminal date of April 1943, wired
home to report that Jinnah had conceded nothing, leaving C. R. rather
depressed.”

Cripps found himself left with so little influence in Churchill’s War
Cabinet that he resigned on November 22. He remained till the wars end
as minister of aircraft production but would not really return to India s
political stage until Attlee came to power. Attlee was Amery’s choice to re¬
place Linlithgow; Amery urged Churchill in mid-November to ship his
Labour deputy premier to New Delhi, since “He knows the Indian problem
and has no sentimental illusions as to any dramatic short cut to its solu¬
tion.” 36 Had Churchill accepted Amery’s advice, Attlee’s rising domestic
star might have followed Cripps’s into India’s ocean deep, but Churchill
obviously mistrusted even the most conservative of Labour leaders too
much for any direct imperial responsibility, fearing they were all deter¬
mined to “scuttle” India. None of his own party colleagues wanted the job.
lie finally decided to press Linlithgow to stay on half a year longer than
1 1 is promised April release.

Late in 1942, Linlithgow received what he called a “quite definitely re¬
liable” secret report of a “recent talk with Jinnah,” which he passed on to
Amery as the “clearest exposition” of Jinnah’s views on the “Pakistan is¬
sue.” 37 Jinnah had insisted he would join an interim government only on
mi equal footing” with Hindus, since he viewed that “line” as “the only way
in which he could safeguard Pakistan. To accept responsibility in a provi¬
sional government on any other terms would be to walk into the trap which
Congress and Hindus generally wore carefully laying for the unwary or
Impatient Muslims. II was a deep game; and lie, at least, was not prepared
In play. The present was a lime when Muslims were laced with a life and
death problem.' I In did not say that In an oratorical souse; lie meant it lit

214

JINN AH OF PAKISTAN

215

orally. Muslims must either choose to assert themselves and win for them¬
selves a place in the comity of nations or go under and accept a position of
permanent inferiority. It was for them to say what they wanted. If the former,
lie was prepared to fight for them till the last; if the latter, he was willing to
‘take leave and concern himself with making money at the bar.’ ” 38

The U.S. victory at Guadalcanal coming so soon after Rommers defeat
in North Africa raised Allied spirits the world over, especially in Whitehall
where Amery found “nothing but cheerful faces,” predicting that “India
should be entering upon 1943 in much better mood than she began in
1942,” 80 But not so in Bengal. Twin specters of Japanese invasion and
famine outdid one another in striking terror among Bengal’s population.
"< Ihittagong is receiving daily attention from enemy airmen,” Ispahani re¬
ported.

The food position in the province is growing more and more serious
each day. In some areas, it is most acute. . . . Tens of thousands
have died and millions have been rendered homeless and are starv¬
ing. The disaster is really terrible. . . . The Japs have been over¬
loving of late. They have visited us four times. . . . Half of Calcutta
Is on the run. 40

II was only the start of India’s worst famine of the century, a tragedy that
claimed between two and three million Bengali lives during the forthcom¬
ing year.

(Government goaded the people to the point of madness,” Gandhi
charged, writing from detention to Linlithgow in January 1943. “They
si n rled leonine violence in the shape of the arrests. ... I must resort to
I he law prescribed for satyagrahis, namely, a fast according to capacity. I

.. commence after the early morning breakfast of the 9th Februaiy . . .

ending on the morning of the 2nd March.” 41 Linlithgow wired Amery, soon
niter receiving the Mahatma’s letter, “I have never wavered that Gandhi,
il he desired to do so, should be allowed on his own responsibility to starve
In death.” 42 When Linlithgow informed his council in early February of
Gandhis intention to fast, he was amazed to find them “unanimously fa¬
vouring his release as soon as the fast began. So the government of India
decided to oiler to release Gandhi for the duration of his proposed fast,
mlhcr than to risk having him die in detention. Linlithgow wired this deci¬
sion home. Amery responded how “greatly disturbed” the War Cabinet felt
nl the thought of releasing Cundhi “on a mere threat to fast.” 48

An emergency War Cabinet meeting was held on the next Sunday at
which Amery reported:

DAWN IN DELHI ( 1942-43)

Winston . . . launched out on the Gandhi subject at once. At first
. . . muttering away his dissatisfaction, but giving me the impres¬
sion that he was going to agree with a shrug of the shoulder. Pres¬
ently, however, he warmed up and worked himself into one of his
states of indignation over India. I made efforts to try and bring him
to the point that whatever might or might not be the best method of
handling so peculiar a situation as the Gandhi one, the issue was not
that, but whether you were to override your Council and run the risk
of resignations. That point he simply brushed aside by saying that it
would not matter if they did all resign: we could carry on just as
well without them and this our hour of triumph everywhere in the
world was not the time to crawl before a miserable little old man
who had always been our enemy. 44

But Gandhi had already been informed of the government of India’s offer
to release him and politely refused. “I shall be quite content to take my fast
as a detenu or prisoner,” replied the “little old man” on the eve of his
ordeal. “The impending fast has not been conceived to be taken as a free
man.” 45 The viceroy heaved a sigh of great relief.

Jinnah felt as adamant about Gandhi’s fast as Churchill, telephoning
Ispahani to urge him to keep Bengal’s wavering Muslim League members
of the legislature from backing a resolution appealing to the government
for the Mahatma’s release. After the first week of Gandhi’s fast, Linlithgow
was pleased to report that “Muslims continue to stand apart, and Jinnah s
paper Dawn to ridicule and criticise. . . . Dawns leader today is critical
of Gandhi’s suggestion in his letter to me of 29th January that he was ready
to see Jinnah form a national government, which is equivalent, it suggests,
to a tenancy-at-will as a favour.’ ” 46

The League remained aloof from the mounting waves of protest and
unrest throughout India triggered by Gandhi’s fast. In New Delhi’s legisla¬
ture, Liaquat Ali Khan reiterated the Muslim League’s non-aligned position.
“We have every sympathy for the sentimental concern of our Hindu
friends,” said the man who was to be Pakistan’s first prime minister. But
we are unable to join them in this matter.” 47 Jinnah was invited by Sapru
to a conference of prominent leaders in New Delhi to discuss the situation
arising out of Gandhi’s fast,” but he declined, noting as Linlithgow was de¬
lighted to report, that “the situation is really a matter for the Hindu leaders
to consider.” 48

Three British doctors, including the surgeon-general, who observed the
Mahatma, predicted that he would probably not survive another week of
liis sell imposed ordeal. Serious signs of organic deterioration were noted,

216

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

and with the old man's arteriosclerosis, the doctors expected a heart attack
at any moment. Three members of the viceroy's executive council resigned
on February 17, 1943, in protest over the viceroy's decision not to release

f „ T U ” C ? nditi0nall >'’ even when da ”S er to life accrued from the
fast. Linlithgow accepted those resignations and found at least three
other Indian members of his council “wobbly” but managed to convince
them to stay the course.” The viceroy alerted all the governors of the im¬
minent possibility of Gandhi’s death, the code word for which was "Rubi¬
con, warning them that “considering Gandhi's position as our prisoner and
a declared rebel, there can be no question of half-masting flags or sending
official messages of condolence to his widow.” 50

A bulletin signed by six of Gandhi’s doctors on February 21 warned that
e had entered a crisis ... was seized with severe nausea and almost
fainted and pulse became nearly imperceptible.” 31 Much to every one's
amazement, however, the little old man did not die. His stamina surprised
the world and delighted his anxious friends, who attributed his survival to
divine intervention. Churchill, however, suspected “fraud” and urged Lin¬
lithgow to “expose all these Congress Hindu doctors round him” who could
so easily slip glucose or other nourishment into his food.” 32 (Churchill him¬
self was just recovering from pneumonia and felt particularly nasty toward
Gandhi.) Much as he searched for it, though, Linlithgow could not discover
any Arm evidence of fraud” in any of the medical reports issued by
-andhi s physicians, nor in any treatment of that most famous of Indian
patients.

Then on the morning of March 3 Gandhi broke his fast. His weight had
fallen from 109 to 90 pounds, but the next day Lumley reported from Bom¬
bay that “everything is now normal.” 58

Meanwhile Fazlul Haq of Bengal remained Jinnah's worst personnel
problem, for as long as he continued presiding over a non-League coalition
in that Muslim majority province, he appeared to belie the basic premise
of Pakistan. Bengal's foxy premier adroitly survived at the head of a coali¬
tion of his own Progressive Muslim League, shifting Mahasabha, Congress,
and Forward Bloc members. For sixteen months Haq retained popularity as
we I as power despite having been ousted from the League. He finally
sought reconciliation with Jinnah late in 1942 by going to the Quaid-i-
Aza.ns house in New Delhi in November. But Jinnah's position never al-
< f 0rder |r,,zl, ‘' "‘“I first of «n to resign his premiership, then to
disband Ins own Muslim party and pledge allegiance to the Muslim League
l”' , ; r, ' l l" l »lto« to re,Emission In its fold, On IVbnmrv 5, 1943, li„q wrote
JJnnah: 1

217

DAWN IN DELHI ( 1942-43)

I am going to sacrifice all, that I now possess, for the sake of my
country and of the solidarity of my community. ... I have thought
carefully over the situation and with a view to facilitate my coming
back to the League, I am ready to tender my resignation which will
mean the automatic dissolution of the Progressive Coalition Party.
May I now get a line from you to tell me that I have understood you
alright, and that the ban put on me will be lifted as soon as I tender
resignation of my office as Premier? If so, I will take my step I have
indicated. 54

Jinnah reminded Haq that he had heard that promise before, the last No¬
vember in fact, when Haq had “agreed to carry out these conditions within
a fortnight.” 55 Ispahani and his friends kept up pressure against Haq’s
coalition within Calcutta’s assembly, which, together with the Japanese
pressure mounting from outside shook popular confidence everywhere in
Bengal against a government that appeared both incapable of defending its
people or feeding them. By mid-March Fazlul Haq phoned Jinnah in
Ispahani’s presence, trying to clarify his prospects of re-emerging as Ben¬
gal’s premier if, indeed, he resigned and rejoined the League. After
speaking with Haq, Jinnah privately assured Ispahani “that he could not
possibly have Mr. Fazlul Haq as leader of the Muslim League in the
Legislature.” 56

Fazlul Haq obviously sensed that if he resigned his days of power were
over, so he turned elsewhere, desperately working round the clock to shore
up support as his forces broke ranks. In the last week of March, however,
he survived a no-confidence vote on the “food question” by one vote due to
the absence of three Muslim League members. Three days later, Ispahani
wired from Calcutta jubilantly to report that “Fazlul Haq has been
routed.” 57 The League captured six seats contested against Haq’s Progres¬
sives. Muslims were “crossing the floor” daily to join the once depleted
ranks of the Muslim League. “Four Muslims will cross the floor this after¬
noon,” wrote Ispahani. “We are expecting another two to come over by
tonight. Inshallah, our wound of having the majority of the Muslim MLAs
sitting opposite us, will soon be healed. . . . Fazlul Plaq looks a picture of
misery.” 08 And on March 29, Fazlul Haq’s ministry fell; the following month
Khwuja Nazimuddin, the leader of Bengal’s Muslim League, was invited to
form a new government,

That April the League held its annual session in New Delhi. A map of
Pakistan adorned the dais, and a banner flew over It reading “Freedom of
India lies in Pakistan," Jlmiuli wort' a white sherwani with a gold button
engraved with "P" pinned In Ills Nlarehrd collar. He was greeted willi "Ire

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

219

218

mendous ovation and cheering” as he entered the packed pandal. 59 With his
League ministries now running Bengal, the Punjab, Sind, and Assam, Jin-
nah insisted, “This is only the starting point. ... In the North-West Fron¬
tier Province ... my information is—and it is based on very reliable
Sources . . . the Muslim public is entirely with the Muslim League. [That
summer a League Ministry under Aurangzeb Khan would come to power in
Peshawar.] Don’t forget the Minority Provinces. It is they who have spread
I lie light when there was darkness in the majority Provinces. It is they who
were the spearheads that the Congress wanted to crush. . . . We have got a
great deal to do. . . . Our goal is clear; our demands are clear.” 60

Jinnah then reviewed the history of Hindu-Muslim conflicts from the
dawn of the century, after which he indulged in a blistering attack upon
(Jandhi and his tactics, accusing the Mahatma of wanting to turn the whole
of India into his Hindu ashram. He went so far as to suggest a new summit
with Gandhi, however, arguing: “Nobody would welcome it more than
myself, if Mr. Gandhi is even now really willing to come to a settlement
with the Muslim League on the basis of Pakistan. Let me tell you that it
will l)c the greatest day for both Hindus and Musalmans. If he has made
up his mind, what is there to prevent Mr. Gandhi from writing direct
lo me?” 61

"Jiimah’s speeches both in the meetings of the Working Committee and
Ih<‘ Subjects Committee (held in camera) and in the Open Session have con¬
firmed impressions that of late his mind has been passing through a certain
process of change,” reported a British spy attending all the League sessions.
"Mr [Jinnah] has become more aggressive, more challenging and more au¬
thoritative. The reason appears to be consciousness of power lately acquired
mid of certain old injuries which can now be avenged therewith.”

I lo has finally warned the British; he has expressed his profound dis¬
satisfaction with their attitude; he has urged Provincial Leagues now
lo place themselves on a war footing in preparation for what is to
come; he has castigated the Capitalists and pampered the masses
(on whose sympathy and goodwill he has to base his future strug¬
gle) by his references to “social justice” and “economic reorganisa¬
tion”; he has tried to impress upon the Provincial Premiers the fact
that their own future lies only in following his lead and above all
he has, in order to show his bona (idea to the neutral world, extended
an open and almost final invitation to the Congress to approach him
for a settlement if it so desires. Inevitably the next stage will be
"preparation lor the inevitable struggle" and after that the "struggle”
Itself . 08

DAWN IN DELHI ( 1942-43)

Jinn ah’s shrewd appreciation of Indian politics and the ever-shifting
interaction among its major parties had never been more clearly revealed.
His greatly overrated estimate of British postwar power, however, reflected
his far less sophisticated appreciation of U.S., Russian, and Chinese poten¬
tial for more rapid expansion. Anticipating that the war could last “another
three years,” Jinnah wisely urged his followers to “put our house in order”
during that interlude. Ingenious strategist that he was, he concluded with
this warning: “The fight being inevitable, we must make our preparations
flawless.” 63

Nor was this shrewdest of India’s politicians unaware of how carefully
his words were recorded, copied, and cabled the world over, to help trouble
the sleep of officials in Great Britain’s highest echelons of power. Openly,
before the mass audience that listened to his presidential address at Delhi,
Jinnah said:

If they have got any honest and capable agents they ought to be kept
informed in London. I once more draw the attention of the British
Government to this fact. It is a very serious situation indeed, and I
inform them from this platform that the cup of bitterness, and disap¬
pointment—not to use any stronger language—at the shabby treatment
meted out to Muslim India is a danger to them. . . . The Muslim
League calls upon the British Government to come forward, without
any further delay, with an unequivocal declaration guaranteeing to
the Musalmans the right of self-determination, and to pledge them¬
selves that they will abide by the verdict of a plebiscite on the lines
of the resolution passed at the Muslim League Session in Lahore in
1940.

I say to the Musalmans . . . 100 million Musalmans are with us.
When I say 100 million Musalmans, I mean that 99 per cent of them
are with us, leaving aside some who are traitors, cranks, supermen
or lunatics—an evil from which no society or nation is free. The way
in which I see them now is that the phoenix-like rise and regenera¬
tion of Muslim India from the very ashes of its ruination ... is a
miracle. The people who had lost everything and who were placed
by providence between the two stones of a mill, not only came into
their own in a very short time, but became, after the British, socially
the most solid, militarily the most virile, and politically the most de¬
cisive factor in modern India. Now it is time to take up the construc¬
tive programme to build up this nation so that it can march on the
path of our goal of Pakistan. . . . The goal is near, stand united,
persevere and march forward."' 1

220

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

Even before he ended his address, loud and prolonged cheers and cries
of “Quaid-i-Azam Zindabad!” “Pakistan Zindabad!” “Muslim League Zinda-
badl” reverberated from thousands of throats that would carry his message
to millions of Muslims beyond range of Jinnah’s frail voice. Soon they would
nil close ranks behind their great leader in the pain-filled march to their
Promised Land.

Karachi and Bombay Revisited
( 1943 - 44 )

Jinnah’s challenge to Gandhi in April elicited a letter from the Mahatma,
who read the challenge in the Dawn early in May. “Dear Qaid-e-Azam, I
welcome your suggestion. I suggest our meeting face to face rather than
talking through correspondence. . . . But I am in your hands. I hope that
this letter will be sent to you and, if you agree to my proposal, that the
Government will let you visit me.” 1

Linlithgow’s immediate response was to “raise no objection if Jinnah
wants to see Gandhi in jail,” noting with good reason, “I doubt the Mahat¬
ma’s move being wholly palatable to Jinnah.” 2 Amery was less willing to
acquiesce, however, reminding the viceroy that he had refused to permit
Others, including C. R., to visit Gandhi.

Although Jinnah is a different case in some respects, refusal has
hitherto been based on Gandhis past behavior and if we once aban¬
don principle that he is kept incommunicado because of his responsi¬
bility for rebellion and must remain so until he disassociates himself
from that policy, I feel that we may be driven out of our whole posi¬
tion, which is of course Gandhi’s object. 3

Both were loath, moreover, to deliver Gandhi’s letter to Jinnah. The mat¬
ter was to be decided by the cabinet, but Churchill had just sailed ofE
to Washington on the Queen Manj with Wavell for an Anglo-U.S. joint
rliIds conference code-named “Trident” to coordinate operations against
Germany, Italy, and Japan. It was during this trip that Churchill felt he got
to know Wavell well enough to believe he was the sort of man to replace
Linlithgow.

I'reelselv how much lime the entire British War Cabinet devoted to this

*** JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

single undelivered letter is incalculable, but the secretary of state prepared
an elaborate memorandum on the subject which was circulated to the cabi¬
net prior to its first meeting on the question of “Gandhi’s request to see
Jinnah” on May 18, 1943. A second meeting, also chaired by Attlee in Chur¬
chill s absence, was held on the same subject next day. Churchill, of course,
remained in telegraphic touch with Amery throughout the whole debate on
this vital matter. The secretary of state officially wired a “most immediate”
cable to the viceroy after the second meeting, ordering that “Gandhi’s letter
should not go forward. 4 The ball continued electronically to bounce around
the globe over the next week, with Amery even going so far as to wire the
man Great Britain considered wise enough to serve as India’s viceroy: “It
has been suggested to me that possibly situation might be eased if you in¬
vited Jinnah to come and see you.” 5

Jinnah during this interval focused his time and energies on the strategy
of seeking to make his League more effective and responsive to popular
demands and needs in the provinces it ran. “The ‘Pakistan’ slogan is gaining
momentum, reported the Punjab’s governor toward the end of May. “There
has been a considerable amount of discussion in the Press as to whether
Jinnah was justified in suggesting [in Delhi in April] that the Punjab Cabi¬
net is a League Ministry. The Nawab of Mamdot [Punjabi leader of the
Muslim League] has sought to improve the occasion by a Press statement
that the Sikander-Jinnah Pact has come to an end, the implication being
that more active interference by the Muslim League in Punjab politics is to
be expected.” 6 Sikander’s death in December of 1942 had left his Unionist
party ministry under the control of a much younger, less experienced Mus¬
lim leader, Khizar Hyat Khan Tiwana (1900-75). By early June “Hindu
indignation with Jinnah” was reported by Linlithgow as “greater than ever.
Jinnah himself is well pleased, so far as one can judge, and there is no ques¬
tion that he has sent his stock up still higher.” 7 In his most frank assessment
of Jinnah, Linlithgow remarked:

I do not however think he wants a row with Government . . . and
his threats do not cause me any sleepless nights! As I have consis¬
tently felt and said both to Zetland and to you, Jinnah would be
quite as bad a master as Gandhi. But Jinnah is not in as strong a
position as Gandhi and Congress, and he is never likely to be, in the
near future, since he represents a minority, and a minority that can
only effectively hold its own with our assistance. Nor, of course, is
his organisation anything like as deeprooted as is that of Congress. 8

His curse is personal vanity which al his age he is not likelv to shake

off."

KARACHI AND BOMBAY REVISITED ( 1943-44 ) 223

Churchill recommended Field Marshal Wavell to his cabinet in mid-
June 1943 as India’s next viceroy. General Sir Claude Auchinleck, who had
followed Wavell in the Middle East command, was to succeed him as com¬
mander-in-chief of India. Labour ministers viewed Wavell as a “safe” or
“stopgap” viceroy at a time when India needed creative intelligence, diplo¬
matic skill, and imagination. Churchill’s top priority, however, was to hold
India militarily at any cost. As Simla’s commander-in-chief for the past year
and a half, Archie Wavell had proved himself the good soldier, strong and
silent.

The one thing King George VI “complained” about to Wavell at a
Buckingham Palace lunch was the “length of the Viceroy’s telegrams,”
urging the viceroy-designate to “keep them shorter” than Linlithgow’s. 30
Before flying from London to take over in India, Wavell attended several
cabinet meetings focused on Indian problems, especially those dealing with
England’s mounting war debt, which by mid-1943 climbed to over ,£800
million. Wavell soon recognized, as he noted in his Diary , that Churchill
“hates India and everything to do with it” and came to appreciate the wis¬
dom of Amery’s remark to him that “Winston . . . ‘knows as much of the
Indian problem as George III did of the American colonies.’” 11 Churchill,
of course, instructed Wavell to stay away from political reforms of any sort,
warning that “only over his dead body would any approach to Gandhi take
place.” 12

Jinnah visited Baluchistan in July and addressed the League’s third pro¬
vincial conference “at the foot of a hill in a tastefully decorated pandal . . .
which included all the notables of the city numbered about 25,000.” 1:1 The
Quaid-i-Azam “exhorted the Muslims of Baluchistan to shake off their
lethargy and march in line with their nation.” He urged them to “Give up
your mutual jealousies and sectional interests and differences over small
things, petty quarrels and tribal notions.” The following day he addressed
the same conference after it had passed all the resolutions lie advocated,
jinnah reiterated his pre-battle plan for Pakistan, seeking first to lay the
foundation of reforms and growth, later to press his separatist demands. To
tin' students in his audience he cautioned conservatively, “Do not run alter
cheap slogans or catchwords. Concentrate your whole attention on educa¬
tion, Get equipped and qualify yourself for action. . . . The heller yon are
equipped the brighter are your chances of success.” 14

I'Ivon as Jinnah was spooking on the bleak hut vvellled Western border
ol British India, famine darkened flic dismal plains of East Bengal. "We
cannot keep Bengal fed (certainly we cannot assume the responsibility of
in I lolling in < hiU'i il in or elsewhere) unless we call gel loodgnilns Into Ben

224 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

gal from outside at once,” 15 Governor John A. Herbert warned the viceroy
in July. “I wonder how far he is right about the Bengal situation Linlith¬
gow noted in that letter’s margin. The viceroy remained, however, less pre¬
occupied with the terrible Bengal famine, which had by then claimed over
11 million lives, than with his own fantasy fears of a fast-unto-death that
(iandhi might launch in August.

Jinnah returned to Bombay from his tour of Baluchistan on Friday, July
23. Three days later, on the afternoon of Monday, July 26, a fanatical young
Muslim Khaksar from Lahore, Rafiq Sabir Mazangavi, entered the Quaid-i-
Azu m’s Mount Pleasant Road house and appealed to Jinnah’s secretary, Mr.
M. II. Saiyid, for an interview with the great leader. Just then Jinnah en¬
tered his secretary’s office and asked who Rafiq was and what he wanted.
I was very busy,” Jinnah testified later in Bombay’s high court.

My whole mind was on my correspondence and I was trying to get
out of the room. Just as I was about to leave the room, in the twin¬
kling of an eye, the accused sprang on me and gave me a blow with
his clenched fist on my left jaw. I naturally reeled back a bit when
lie pulled out a knife from his waist. ... It was an open knife. . . .
Instinct of self-defence made me put out my hand and catch his
wrist, with the result that the momentum of the blow was broken
but in spite of this the knife just touched the left side of my jaw. I
got a cut near my chin and my coat was cut near the left-shoulder.
... I also got a wound on my left finger. 16

| i 111111 1 i s watchman helped his secretary disarm the would-be assassin,
hin I ly after which police arrived.

The accused defended himself in court, reporting that he had belonged
lu llie Muslim League in Lahore from 1935-39 but had finally resigned
because "the I -eague was not doing anything for the Muslims or for human¬
ity except talking.” 17 He insisted that he had gone to appeal to Jinnah for
work and help, not to assassinate him, but was found guilty as charged of
"attempted murder and hurt” and sentenced to five years in jail. Sub-inspec-
loi Abdul Kadir Sheikh, who had been put in charge of the investigation,

... to admire Jinnah so much in its aftermath that he opted to join him

in Pakistan. The question of conspiracy was closely studied, but no evidence
nl accomplices was ever clearly established. Though shaken by the violent
attack nod rather weakened by loss of blood, Jinnah survived the ordeal
with no diminution, of spirit or stamina. "Don't worry,” he wired close
friends like Ispahan!, "Thank Caul I urn all right." 16 11 is miraculous escape
from serious harm was viewed by many followers as evidence of divine
In fervent Ion. Muslim India celebrated "A Day ol Thanksgiving to God for

KARACHI AND BOMBAY REVISITED ( 1943-44 ) 225

sparing the most precious life of the Sub-continent.” 19 Jinnah publicly ap¬
pealed to friends and disciples to “remain calm and cool.”

Lord Wavell’s “secret” assessment of Jinnah in mid-September 1943 was
that “It is hardly too much to say that Jinnah is the Muslim League. He is a
vain, shallow and ambitious man who would probably think the present
time inopportune for any rapprochement with the Hindus.” 20 The new vice¬
roy’s opinion of Gandhi was not much better. “Gandhi and Jinnah are both
dictators. . . . Gandhi because he has built himself up as a saint, and Jin¬
nah because there is nobody in his party who approaches him in ability.”
Wavell viewed Pakistan as a “serious plan” but noted that “nobody” was
“at all definite” about its boundaries. Jinnah held an “inconclusive” series of
summit talks with Khizar Tiwana in Simla at this time, which the Punjab’s
chief minister recounted to his governor as “a series of lectures from Jinnah
about the services that he had rendered to mankind.” 21

Ispahani urged Jinnah to come to Calcutta at that time to hold a League
council meeting there, feeling Nazimuddin was too weak to counter Hindu
Mahasabha attacks against the League ministry, which was, of course,
blamed in part for the famine tragedy. “Propaganda and action do not seem
to come within the programme of the Ministry,” Ispahani moaned. “Our
Johnnies have not the guts. ... It is necessary that . . . you put matters
right in Bengal before conditions worsen ... it is for you, Sir, to please
come here . . . and set the house in order.” 22 Jinnah dared not risk so
arduous and potentially dangerous a trip, however, returning from Simla to
Bombay, where he issued a statement on the Bengal famine in late October,
insisting that

the present Ministry working under the present constitution with its
limitations cannot be saddled with the responsibility, and further
they only came into power after the terrible crisis had overwhelmed
Bengal. I am assured that they are doing their very best. But the fact
remains that thousands are dying, and I earnestly appeal to His Ex¬
cellency the Viceroy Lord Wavell to leave no stone unturned and
give immediate help and relief to the people of Bengal with all the
resources that the Government of India can command. Similarly I
appeal to Mr. Churchill. . . . This muddle, whoever is responsible
for it, is the greatest blot on the British administration in this coun¬
try, and it must be wiped off without delay. 23

| ii mal i add res seel his Working Committee council in Delhi in mid-
November, insisting that "The constitution of the Muslim League is the
most (lemoemtie tlml could be framed. There is no Muslim to whom the
doors ol tin 1 Muslim League are not open. If the Miisnliinms are dissatisfied
with the lender, snnaly (lie remedy lies In llielr hand. They can remove him

226 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

if they so desire by exercising their rights under the constitution of the
party, but if they try to settle things by force and violence, nothing but
blood-shed would ensue.” 24 He was sensitive to the sort of barbed criticism
that Khaksars and other Punjabis as well as Bengalis, including chief minis¬
ters, often aimed at him. He defended Nazimuddin’ s ministry in Bengal as
a “fire-brigade” called too late to put out the raging famine, yet doing its
best to diminish the damage. Three days later he rose to speak on the “food
situation” in Delhi’s legislative assembly and reprimanded Sir Henry Rich¬
ardson, the leader of the European party for saying it was “no use in
indulging in “recriminations” against Government for the Bengal disaster.

Do you call this recrimination when the Government in charge of
the country are called upon to explain their conduct, and that we are
entitled to examine whether they have discharged their duty and re¬
sponsibility? Who is the real thief has to be found out. Surely the
Government of the country is responsible for the safety of the lives
of the people, and that is a fact which nobody can deny. . . . Sup¬
posing in England a few hundred people had died or were dying
every week of starvation, let alone a few thousands, would Chur¬
chill’s Government be able to stand ... for 24 hours? And here we
are calmly and coolly told about not indulging in recrimination. . . .

It is our misfortune that we are living under a system of Government
which is irremovable and irresponsible and, I would add, thoroughly
incompetent to handle any big issue. 25

II was Jinnah’s most vitriolic attack against the British government since
the post-World War I passage of the Rowlatt acts. Not only were Bengali
Muslims dying by the tens and hundreds of thousands, but Muslim League
ministries in the Punjab as well as Bengal were being widely blamed for
profit ling from the famine.

Some .10,000 Muslim delegates gathered in Karachi to attend the thirty-
first session of the Muslim League that December. When Jinnah entered
|ho brilliantly lighted tent, he was greeted with thunderous shouts of
"Ouaid i-Azam Zindabad” and “Conqueror of Congress Zindabad.” He be¬
gan to speak at 10:50 p.m. on the eve of his sixty-seventh birthday and con¬
tinued extempore for 100 minutes in English, lie was forced to stop four
or five times” by his racking tubercular cough, euphemistically described
as "a touch of cold” in the League’s official report of that historic address. 26
"Remember the position of Muslim India,” Jinnah told his rapt audience.
"When n man is sick and almost dying, he 1ms not got the energy either to
complain or to ask for anything, . . That was Hit* condition of Muslim

India Novell years ago; hut to-day, the Nick train lias recovered from his
< lend lilted, lie has acquired coiinC'Ioiiniicnn. lie In uol only convalescent but

KARACHI AND BOMBAY REVISITED ( 1943-44) 227

he is in a position to move about. Now he has got so many suggestions and
proposals to make, so many disputes and so many quarrels to settle. It is a
good sign, provided it is kept within limits.” 27 Jinnah appears at this point
to have forgotten he was talking about “Muslim India” as the sick man
and to have lapsed into a personal reverie: “I get some suggestions which
are splendid ones and thoughtful ones and very good, too. I get complaints
and petty quarrels, which I do not like. But anyhow it is a healthy sign. In
one word, let me put it to you this way. I am thankful to God that Muslim
India is awake-I am thankful that Muslim India has regained conscious¬
ness. I am thankful that Muslim India is taking interest in things around it,
not only in India, but throughout the world.” 28

Jinnah then announced his appointment of a three-man (Liaquat Ali
Khan, Khaliquzzaman, and Hussain Imam) parliamentary board as the
final arbiter of the League’s nationwide candidates for election. He also
proposed establishing a new Committee of Action, to be chaired by Nawab
Ismail Khan and “convened” by Liaquat Ali, to foster educational, eco¬
nomic, and social planning for Pakistan. This committee was to include the
Nawab of Mamdot, G. M. Syed, Haji Sathar Sait, and Qazi M. Isa; and they
were all formally appointed by Jinnah on December 27, 1943. After the ad¬
dress ended, Liaquat Ali Khan rose to congratulate Jinnah on his birthday.
Quaid-i-Azam and his sister returned to the packed pandal that night for
the League’s second sitting, “escorted by two bodyguards with drawn
swords.” Grey uniformed League national guards followed Jinnah every¬
where after the attempt on his life and kept close watch over the crowd in
attendance. An estimated 2,000 of these League guards, sometimes called
Jinnah’s “private army” and led by Nawab Siddiq Ali Khan of the Central
Provinces, marched round Karachi. Nazimuddin had arrived from Calcutta
during the day and joined Khizar and the premiers of Sind, Assam, and the
Norlh-West Frontier on stage behind the Quaid-i-Azam, whose glittering
silver throne stood apart in front of all other seats on the dais. The frontier
premier, Sardar Aurangzeb Khan, prophesied that “The day of reckoning is
coining, and when the call from Mr. Jinnah comes to us to get out and fight
for Pakistan, we shall not falter.”

The strain of his long address in Karachi left Jinnah “prostrate on his
bed, gasping for breath. Fortunately,” Fatima recalled, “he had the ability
lo sleep at will. A good night’s rest gave him enough energy to cope with
l he daily crop of letters, requests and important problems for which solu¬
tions Intel to be found. Tie kept up this tempo ... in spite of recurring fe¬
ver which enmeialed his body,” 2 " Jinnah answered most letters requesting
Ills presence in distant corners of llio country, like one from Malabar, by
explaining "how difficult It In for me to go on louring owing lo enormous

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

pressure of work and, therefore, it is not possible for me to make any corn-
mil ment which I may not be able to fulfill.” 30 By minimizing public ap¬
pearances, while seeing to it that all his statements received maximum
press amplification, Jinnah continued to function, presenting a relatively
vigorous fa 5 ade to the world, or else enveloping himself in a cloak of such
total isolation that it enhanced his charismatic image by adding auras of
mystery and perpetual “pressure of work” to his persona. He had mastered
“modem” management techniques of delegating responsibility to trusted
lieutenants more brilliantly than any of his Indian contemporaries.

By February 1944 Jinnah was back in Bombay. He urged the Muslim
Students’ Federation to erect “pillars” of “hard work, industry and perse¬
verance” upon which the “edifice of Pakistan” could be built. He alluded
“to suggestions made by some Hindu leaders that he should be made the
First Premier of India,” calling them mere “camouflage . . . made in order
to mislead and confuse the Muslims.” 31 Jinnah returned to New Delhi at
the end of the month for the opening session of the assembly, where Wavell’s
maiden speech as viceroy stressed the “geographical unity” of India as cen¬
tral to its postwar constitution. Quaid-i-Azam was outraged by that formu¬
lation and viewed it as nothing less than an attempted negation of Cripps’s
implicit “promise” of Pakistan. He launched a fresh attack in the assembly
upon the government’s budget to remind Wavell of the League’s powers to
prevent the government from mustering a Central Legislative Assembly ma¬
jority. Speaking to the Aligarh Union that month, Jinnah called the vice¬
roy’s address “provocative and thoughtless of the Muslim position,” adding:

Lord Wavell like his predecessor has started fishing in the Congress
waters. Lord Linlithgow hopelessly failed, but the soldier-Viceroy
thinks that he would succeed where his predecessor had failed in
landing a big fish or a number of small ones sufficient for his pur¬
pose. . . . This has created deep resentment throughout Muslim
India. 32

Wavell sought advice from the governors as how best to proceed, and
Sir Henry Twynam of Central Provinces wrote to warn the viceroy against
antagonizing Jinnah. “I know that many hard things are said about Jinnah,”
Twynam noted. “But I often wonder where we should have been had not
Jinnah foreseen how fatal it would be to Moslem interests to support Con¬
gress." 88 Acting governor Francis Mudie of Bihar reported Khaliquzzaman’s
opinion that “what Jinnah [was] playing for” was nothing less than “to get
I’ukistan Without giving a quid pro quo to the Hindus. . . . Government
should make tin unui|iiivociil im noun cement of their unconditional neeop-

KARACHI AND BOMBAY REVISITED ( 1943-44 ) 229

tance of Pakistan, Jinnah arguing that a plebiscite would be a waste of time
and lead only to riots in the Punjab and Bengal.” 34

Wavell was puzzled by Jinnah and had no appreciation of his complex
character or the force of his will or the deep wellsprings of history it drew
upon for sustenance. He saw only the surface cosmopolitan appearance; he
recalled only Linlithgow’s piqued and petty criticism of Jinnah’s vanity. “I
gather that Jinnah regards me as an enemy of the Muslim League and is
determined to be as much of a nuisance as he can,” the viceroy confessed
to his journal diary in late March. “He does not really represent solid steady
Moslem opinion (in fact J. himself is hardly a Muslim) but he can sway
opinion, and no one seems to have the character to oppose him.” 35 The
viceroy was certainly not ready to “concede Pakistan” to such a man, 36 es¬
pecially while the fighting still raged along India’s Eastern front and Ben¬
gal remained racked with famine.

One of the things Wavell wanted to do was to talk to Gandhi, but by
this time Gandhi’s health had seriously deteriorated. After his wife died
that February, the Mahatma appeared to have lost any will to survive the
last of his long detentions. Every doctor who examined him, British as well
as Indian, urged an early release. Wavell recommended unconditional re¬
lease to Amery in May, warning that “serious difficulties would result if
(landhi died in detention” and agreeing with the medical “opinions” that
"(Jandhi was unlikely to be an active factor in politics again.” 37 This assur¬
ance helped win Churchill’s approval on May 5, 1944. As soon as Gandhi
was transported from the Aga Khan’s Poona palace, where he had lan¬
guished imprisoned to the nearby house of his “old friend” Lady Thacker-
sey, he perked up and received many visitors. The Mahatma’s swift recov¬
ery reminded Amery of what Lord Byron had written in one of his letters:

" 'My mother-in-law has been dangerously ill; she is now dangerously well.’
I | Amery] can only hope that that is not going to be true of our old friend
(landhi.” 88 Churchill, of course, was outraged at the news of Gandhi’s signs
of resurrected life and feared his “naked fakir” had outfoxed him.

Within two weeks of his release Gandhi spoke of seeking talks with Jin-
null, who had, however, gone to Kashmir to rest and breathe the cool, re-
I resiling air of Srinagar after a frustrating struggle with Khizar in Lahore.
|!rmnh journeyed to Lahore in late April, hoping to pressure Khizar into
ulmmloning his Unionist label; but with British support the young premier
,ioo<I linn, refusing to knuckle under to the Quaid-i-Azam. Shaukat Playat
Minn (Sikunder's son) was. in fact, the only member of Khizar’s provincial
• nblnol to go along with Jinnnh’s demand that it proclaim itself a Muslim
Longue, nil her Ilian Unionist administration. Khizar then managed l;o get

230

231

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

(Governor Glancy to dismiss Shaukat for some “injustice which had come to
light” 30 most conveniently, thus helping strengthen the Unionist Party. The
Muslim League’s Committee of Action voted to expel Khizar before the
end of May. For the remainder of the war, the Punjab could no longer,
therefore, be counted among the League’s provincial administrative assets.
The Jinnah-Sikander pact was finally dead. Glancy and Wavell felt quite
"worried about the possible activities of the Muslim League National
Guards” in the Punjab, and the viceroy wrote “we shall have to take a
very firm line with Jinnah to prevent communal trouble.” 40 In June, Khizar
warned that Jinnah was “importing into the Punjab a number of Maulvis
from the United Provinces to agitate against the Unionist Government on
religious lines.” 41 Khizar asked the viceroy to keep “these people out, and
he would, I think, like to keep Jinnah and other prominent Muslim leaders
out of the Punjab too.” Wavell liked Khizar very much but recognized he
was “not a strong character,” and found it “odd that these big Punjab land¬
lords should be so dominated by a down-country lawyer like Jinnah.” 42
That ludicrous appraisal of Jinnah glaringly revealed the viceroy’s inability
to understand his nature or true power.

United Provinces governor Sir Maurice Hallett, who considered Gandhi
"cunning as a cartload of monkeys,” cautioned Wavell against granting the
Mahatma an interview. 43 The viceroy was in no rush to see either Gandhi
or Jinnah, suspecting Sir Akbar Hydari, the secretary to his civil supplies
department, was correct in his opinion that “no progress was possible till
both . . . were underground.” 44 But a new round of Gandhi-Jinnah talks
was being arranged even as these harsh words were winging toward Lon¬
don on invisible pulses of electric power. C. R. published a political “for¬
mula," which he insisted Gandhi was prepared to “accept,” if only Jinnah
agreed to it. That formula proposed a “plebiscite” for the Muslim-majority
"contiguous districts in the north-west and east of India” to “decide the is¬
sue ol separation from Hindustan. If the majority decide in favour of form¬
ing a sovereign State separate from Hindustan, such decision shall be given
ell eel: to, without prejudice to the right of districts on the border to choose
to join either state.” 45 It sounded enough like “Pakistan” to arouse consider¬
able .speculation as to the Mahatma’s new position.

|inmih was in no rush to believe C. R.’s assurances of Gandhi’s “accep¬
tance," however, and awaited direct word from his old adversary, who
finally wrote (the original was in Gujarati) on July IT, 1944:

Brother Jinnah,

There was n day when I could induce you to speak In the mother-

tongue. Today I lake courage lo write to you In the same language.

KARACHI AND BOMBAY REVISITED ( 1943 - 44 )

I had invited you to meet me while I was in jail. I have not written
to you since my release. But today my heart says that I should write
to you. We will meet whenever you choose. Don’t regard me as the
enemy of Islam or of the Muslims of this country. I am the friend
and servant of not only yourself but of the whole world. Do not dis¬
appoint me. 46

Jinnah replied from Srinagar on the eve of his departure from Kashmir,
informing “Mr. Gandhi” that he would be “glad to receive you at my house in
Bombay on my return, which will probably be about the middle of August.” 47
The War Cabinet was brought into the picture on “Gandhi’s recent moves”
with a memo circulated by Amery to his busy colleagues. Churchill was
beside himself with fury at Gandhi’s vigor and the prospect of yet another
viceroy “negotiating” with the little old man. Veer Savarkar, leader of the
Hindu Mahasabha and the guru to Gandhi’s future assassin, was equally
upset at the Mahatma’s latest move, warning Amery by wire: “Hindu-
sabhites can never tolerate breaking up of union of India their fatherland
and holyland.” 48

The Muslim League council met in Lahore on July 30, 1944; Jinnah pre¬
sided and reported on the current state of political developments concern¬
ing C. R.’s “formula,” and the proposed summit. He was prepared to con¬
cede nothing, to accept nothing on faith in his forthcoming meetings with
his old adversary. The League’s council gave him unanimous support, and
Quaid-i-Azam concluded that brief meeting with the promise that “Insha’
Allah, Pakistan is coming.”

The talks started on September 9; Gandhi and Jinnah posed with broad
smiles on the veranda of Jinnah’s Malabar Hill house before they went in¬
side for three and a quarter hours of private and secret discussion. Cau¬
tious lawyer that he was, Jinnah kept a record of their tete-a-tete. Gandhi
reported his version of the first day’s talk to C. R., calling the meeting “a
test of my patience” and noting, “I am amazed at my own patience. How¬
ever, it was a friendly talk.” He then informed C. R. of Jinnah’s “contempt
for your Formula and his contempt for you,” which Gandhi called “stagger¬
ing. . . . He says you have accepted his demand and so should I. I said, 1
endorse Rajaji’s Formula and you can call it Pakistan if you like.’ He talked
of the Lahore Resolution. . . .” 4fl Gandhi also reported that Jinnah told him
that if he conceded Pakistan he stood ready to “go to jail” or even “face
bullets. . . . He wants Pakistan now, not after independence. ‘We will
have independence for Pakistan and Hindustan,’ he said. ‘We should come
lo an agroomonl and then go In the Government and aslc them to accept it,
force I hern to accept our solution. . . . The Muslims waul Pakistan. The
I .caguc represents the Muslims and il wauls separation.’ " 5,)

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

233

232

Their second meeting proved no more fruitful than the first, though
(Gandhi reported to C. R. that Jinnah “drew a very alluring picture of the
(Government of Pakistan. It would be a perfect democracy.” 51 Gandhi then
immediately reminded Jinnah of how often he had said “democracy did
not suit Indian conditions,” but Jinnah insisted “that was with regard to
imposed democracy.” The press corps waited for Jinnah and Gandhi as they
emerged from that morning session, asking “Anything for us?” Gandhi re¬
plied: "I have nothing. . . . Yesterday you read something in our faces. . . .
I would like you not to read anything in our faces except hope and nothing
hul hope.” Then he turned to ask Jinnah, “Am I right? Have you seen the
papers this morning?” Jinnah’s response was “Why bother.” 52

Jinnah sensed by this time the futility of the talks. He understood the
Mahatma’s game too well, writing curtly on September 13:

I )our Mr. Gandhi, When you arrived here on the morning of Septem¬
ber 12 to resume our talks you were good enough to inform me that
you had not had time to attend to my letter of September 11. . . .

We met again today without having received your reply, and I am
still waiting for it. Please, therefore, let me have your reply as soon
as possible with regard to the various points mentioned in my let¬
ter. , . . Yours sincerely, M. A. Jinnah. 53

(Gandhi answered on September 14. In that letter it was the first time he
had written the word Pakistan out of quotation marks, or in any sense
other than one of shock or derision, and it may have encouraged Jinnah to
think lie was making a positive impact on the Mahatma’s mind. At any
iale, Jinnah wrote a lengthy, rather cordial reply immediately that after¬
noon.

Of course, I can quite understand that such a provisional interim
government will represent all parties. ... I can quite understand
lhal when the moment arrives certain things may follow, but before
we can deal with this formula in a satisfactory manner I repeat again
lhul, as il is your formula, you should give me a rough idea of the
provisional interim government that you contemplate and of your
conception. 84

(Gandhi’s letter to “Dear Quaid-e-Azam” the following day began by
•luling: "Tor the moment I have shunted the Rajaji Formula and with your
assistance urn applying rny mind very seriously to the famous Lahore Reso¬
lution ol I lie Muslim League.” Then he went on lo pick that Lahore resolu¬
tion apart, arguing “the Resolution itself makes no reference lo the two na¬
tions theory,“ which was, In any event "wholly unreal. I find no parallel in

KARACHI AND BOMBAY REVISITED (1943-44)

history for a body of converts and their descendants claiming to be a na¬
tion apart from the parent stock. If India was one nation before the advent
of Islam, it must remain one in spite of the change of faith of a very large
body of her children.” 55 So much then for the Mahatma’s readiness to “rec¬
ognize” Pakistan—it had lasted just one day. Gandhi’s true feelings about
that “absurd” idea now came pouring forth, and their acidic impact on Jin¬
nah’s momentary hope of reaching a settlement may well be imagined.

“It is my duty to explain the Lahore resolution to you today and per¬
suade you to accept it,” Jinnah replied two days later. “I have successfully
converted non-Muslim Indians in no small number and also a large body of
foreigners, and if I can convert you, exercising as you do tremendous influ¬
ence over Hindu India, it will be no small assistance to me.” Jinnah noted,
however, that much of Gandhi’s letter was “a disquisition” rather than gen¬
uine “seeking clarification” and recommended to Gandhi a number of
books, including one written by the Untouchable leader Dr. B. R. Ambedkar.
“We maintain and hold that Muslims and Hindus are two major nations by
any definition or test of a nation,” Jinnah said, reiterating the arguments he
had made in 1940 in his Lahore presidential address to the League. He
then concluded, “By all canons of international law we are a nation. . . .
As regards your final paragraph ... it is quite clear that you represent no¬
body else but Hindus. ... I am convinced that the true welfare not only
of Muslims but of the rest of India lies in the division of India as proposed
in the Lahore resolution. It is for you to consider whether it is not your
policy and programme in which you have persisted that has been the prin¬
cipal factor of the ruin of the whole of India’ and of misery and degrada¬
tion of the people to which you refer and which I deplore no less than any¬
one else.” 56

They met again the next day, but the much-touted talks had brought
llicin no closer. Nothing was resolved, and no formula bridged the ever-
widening gulf between them. “The more I think about the two-nation the¬
ory the more alarming it appears to be,” wrote the Mahatma to his “Dear
Uiiuid-e-Azam.” Gandhi feared that “Once the principle is admitted there
would be no limit to claims for cutting up India into numerous divisions,
which would spell India’s ruin.” 57 Rahmat Ali, who had first publicized Pa-
k Is tun, was by then advocating no less than ten separate “nations” within
the continent of “AIl-Dinia” as be called India and its oceanic “dependen-
• IcN." Kalimal Ali’s latest pamphlet, “The Millat and Her Ten Nations” was
published from his All -Dlnia Milli ("Religious Nations”) Movement head¬
quarters at lb Montague Rond in Cambridge on June JO, 1944, and reis-
■•uoil Mai'cli 12, 1.040, 811 Italimul All’s feverish brain conceived of such “na¬
tions" as Slritllr/lftlan, bUmu/istun, HaUhrinUm, Muhilshm, and M&plivtan,

234 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

which would respectively represent the Muslims of Central India, Bihar
and Orissa, Hindustan, Rajistan, and Southern India.

Jinnah had nothing to do with Rahmat Ali or his proliferating plans for
"I’akasia,” yet many leaders of Congress besides Gandhi feared that mere
acceptance of the two-nation theory might give credence to such ten-nation
madness. Id fell on September 23 in 1944 and the “summit” was all but
over, “In deference to your wishes,” Jinnah wrote Gandhi that holiday, ‘1
made every effort all these days, and in the course of our prolonged talks
and correspondence, to convert you, but unfortunately it seems I have
failed.” 59 Gandhi agreed. Still he asked Jinnah to “give me in writing” what
precisely “you would want me to put my signature to.”

“It is not a case of your being asked to put your signature as represent¬
ing anybody till you clothe yourself with representative capacity and are
vested with authority,” Jinnah wrote back the same day. “We stand by, as
I have already said, the basis and fundamental principles embodied in the
Lahore resolution of March 1940. I appeal to you once more to revise your
policy and programme, as the future of this subcontinent and the welfare
of the peoples of India demand that you should face realities.” 60

Gandhi answered this with his longest stride toward Jinnah and the
League, and it seemed to indicate a change of heart on the Mahatma’s
part; but next day Jinnah rejected it with almost disdainful hauteur, ar¬
guing: “You have already rejected the basis and fundamental principles of
the Lahore resolution. . . . You do not accept that the Muslims of India
arc a nation. . . . You do not accept that the Muslims have an inherent
right of self-determination. . . . You do not accept that Pakistan is com¬
posed of two zones, north-west and north-east, comprising six provinces. . . .
As a result of our correspondence and discussions, I find that the question
ol the division of India as Pakistan and Hindustan is only on your lips, and
i I docs not come from your heart, and suddenly at the eleventh hour you
pu( forward a new suggestion . . . saying: ‘Let it be a partition as between
two brothers, if a division there must be.’” 61 This latter point, however,
was one that Jinnah himself had recently used in seeking to clarify what he
meant by Pakistan. His angry rejection when Gandhi seemed ready to en¬
dorse Pakistan appears to indicate that Jinnah really wanted no part in ne¬
gotiating a formal settlement with the Congress and was caught off guard
by Gandhi’s swift last moment reversal of position. A Congress-League pact
at that point would, after all, have taken the wind out of the League’s
highly successful organising momentum, which relied for the most part on
its passionate popular appeals to Muslim grievances against the Hindu
Congress and its raj.

Jiiuii 1 1 1 did not. however, wish to slum the door absolutely on "imrepre-

KARACHI AND BOMBAY REVISITED ( 1943-44) 235

sentative” Gandhi’s naked toes. He argued, therefore, at the end of his an¬
gry letter of September 25: “But now you have . . . made a new proposal
of your own on your own basis . . . and it is difficult to deal with it any
further, unless it comes from you in your representative capacity. . . .
Why not then accept the fundamentals of the Lahore resolution and pro¬
ceed to settle details?” 62 Gandhi replied by asking Jinnah “to think fifty
times before throwing away an offer which has been made entirely in the
spirit of service in the cause of communal harmony.” 63

Jinnah responded by rejecting all Gandhi’s overtures, including his ap¬
peals to address the League council or open session, coldly explaining that
“only a member or delegate is entitled to participate in the deliberations of
the meeting of the Council or in the open session respectively. Besides, it is
a most extraordinary and unprecedented suggestion to make. However, I
thank you for your advice. ... I regret I have failed to convince you and
convert you, as I was hopeful of doing so.” 64

“I confess I am unable to understand your persistent refusal to appreci¬
ate the fact that the Formula presented to you by me in my letter of the
24th as well as the Formula presented to you by Rajaji give you virtually
what is embodied in the Lahox-e Resolution,” Gandhi persisted in his final
letter to Jinnah on September 26. “You keep on saying that I should accept
certain theses, while I have been contending that the best way for us, who
differ in our approach to the problem, is to give body to the demand as it
stands in the Resolution and work it out to our mutual satisfaction.” 65

“The Gandhi-Jinnah talks are dragging on and the latest rumour is that
they have broken down,” Wavell reported to Amery. “Gandhi is going to
Wardha for his birthday to receive the fund collected in memory of his
wife, and some people think that a statement about his discussion with
Jinnah will be issued from Wardha.” 66 Jinnah informed the press that day:
"I regret to say that I have failed in my task of converting Mr. Gan¬
dhi. . . . Nevertheless, we hope that the public will not feel embittered,
mid we trust that this is not the final end of our effort.” 67 Gandhi addressed
n larger press corps at Birla House, insisting

The breakdown is only so-called. It is an adjournment sine die. Each
of us must now talk to the public and put our viewpoints before
them. . . . My experience of the previous three weeks confirms me
in the view that the presence of a third power hinders the solution.

A mind enslaved cannot act as if it was free. . . . The chief thing is
lor the Rims and the public to avoid partisanship and bitterness. 68

Asked aboul Ids own future plans, Gandhi promised to "act as my inner
voice lolls me," The next day, Gandhi told the /Vcir.v Chronicle in Bombay

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

236

IIml he believed “Mr. Jinnah is sincere, but I think he is suffering from hal¬
lucination when he imagines that an unnatural division of India could
bring either happiness or prosperity to the people concerned.” 69

VVavcll confessed to his journal, “I must say I expected something bet¬
ter. . . . The two great mountains have met and not even a ridiculous
mouse has emerged. This surely must blast Gandhi’s reputation as a leader.
Jinnah had an easy task, he merely had to keep on telling Gandhi he was
talking nonsense, which was true, and he did so rather rudely, without
having to disclose any of the weaknesses of his own position, or define his
Pakistan in any way. I suppose it may increase his prestige with his follow¬
ers, but it cannot add to his reputation with reasonable men.” 70

Simla

( 1944 - 45 )

As late as October 1944, Wavell found it “difficult to believe that Jinnah
who, whatever his faults, is a highly intelligent man, is sincere about the
‘two nations’ theory.” 1 Pakistan seemed so nebulous, unwieldy, and imprac¬
tical a proposal that the viceroy had almost as much trouble as did Gandhi
in taking Jinnah’s advocacy of it seriously. “To take only one example,”
Wavell noted in his letters to Amery, “the north-eastern Muslim State
would amount to very little without Calcutta, but Calcutta is in the main a
Hindu city.” 2 Jinnah, it seemed, “was arguing for something which he has
not worked out.” As for Amery, reflecting Churchill’s feelings, he feared
any “new attempt to wade into the old bog.” 3

Sir Francis Mudie, Home member of the viceroy’s executive council,
met with Jinnah in New Delhi on November 24, 1944, with the viceroy’s
“permission,” and found him “friendly and talkative. Jinnah said the Mus¬
lims would never accept the Cripps procedure for settling the new consti¬
tution. . . . He showed no special hostility to a Representative Conference
sponsored by Government, and said that he was, as in 1940, prepared to
take part in a Coalition Government at the Centre. ... He did not go into
details about the relative strengths of Hindus and Muslims, but made it
clear that to him the Mahasabha and the Congress were the same. He was
ipiite prepared to co-operate even if the Congress refused to do so.” 4 Wavell
rightly suspected that “Jinnah may have got more out of Mudie than he
gave away himself.”

Jinnah met with Wavell on December 6, and the viceroy found him
<|iiito forthcoming and friendly. . . . lie said that India had never been a
united nation and never could be. Indian unity was only a British creation,
and unity <>l India under one Native Government would have no historical

Z '°° JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

parallel. It was impossible from a practical point of view, it had been tried
for the last 30 years and had completely failed.” 5 The viceroy argued “from
a practical point of view” that the “unity of India” brought about by British
rule ought to be maintained, at least for security and economic purposes.

By mid-December 1944, Bengal’s next governor, Richard G. Casey, had
talked with enough leaders in Calcutta, to conclude that Pakistan was more
a matter of “political wishful thinking” than a potential reality. Casey
hoped that “Mr. Jinnah will compromise before Pakistan turns into a tiger
that he is riding. G He believed it would be easy to “wean” many Bengali
Muslims away from the Pakistan idea,” but was sensitive to “the risk of
any of us being . . . accused of being partisan,” hence wrote Wavell, seek¬
ing viceregal approval. “I believe that if the Muslims could be got to realise
that the inclusion of Greater Calcutta in ‘Pakistan’ is a complete impossibil¬
ity-then the idea of ‘Eastern Pakistan’ would receive a great blow.” 7 Na-
zimuddin s concept of Eastern Pakistan” was, in any event, much closer to
“the picture of a wholly autonomous sovereign state” such as would, in¬
deed, emerge in Bangladesh after 1971. For Nazimuddin and Suhrawardy,
as well as most other Bengali Muslims including Fazlul Haq, the Bengali
state of Eastern Pakistan, as Casey noted, would be one “in which Mus¬
lims and Hindus would live in amity and share the responsibility for the
business of Government (and all else) in approximate proportion to their
numbers.”

Pakistan, or rather the communal suspicion represented by it, is the
main obstacle to constructive thinking,” Wavell replied.

I do not believe that Pakistan will work. It creates new minority
problems quite as bad as those we have now, and the Pakistan State
or States would be economically unsound. On the other hand, like all
emotional ideas that have not been properly thought out, it thrives
on opposition. Some of the abler Muslims may regard it is a bargain¬
ing counter, but for the mass of the Muslim League it is a real possi¬
bility and has a very strong sentimental appeal. We cannot openly
denounce Pakistan until we have something attractive to offer in its
place. 8

Jinnah remained in New Delhi through mid-December, then returned
lo Bombay, where he celebrated his sixty-eighth birthday without pomp of
any sort and left for Karachi immediately afterward. The Muslim chamber
of commerce in the city of his birth welcomed him with a banquet on De¬
cember i?./, 1944. I here ho urged the "Muslim commercial community to bo
up and doing, reminding them llml "the economic position was one of the
strongest pillars of a nation. . . Yon have got in the Pakistan areas an

simla (1944-45) 239

enormous field and enormous scope if you only look around: if only you
will see them properly and seize them.” 9 He had gone to Sind to patch up
provincial disputes between League premier Sir Ghulam Hussain Hidaya-
tullah and Mr. G. M. Syed, disputes which had almost deposed the League’s
ministry. It was more a question of a personal power struggle than ideo¬
logical disputes, but Jinnah’s presence was required to settle arguments
over ministry appointments and candidates for by-elections. The round of
contentious meetings in Sind left him exhausted. Back in Bombay early in
January, Quaid-i-Azam issued a statement on Sind, concluding that “it is
for the people of Sind now to build up our organisation in harmony, co¬
operation and unity.” 10 Jinnah visited Ahmedabad in mid-January and ad¬
dressed the Gujarat Muslim Educational Conference that was attended by
thousands of young Muslims from all over the Northwest. “I was consid¬
ered a plague and shunned,” he told them. “But I thrust myself and forced
my way through and went from place to place uninvited and unwanted.
But now the situation was different.” 11 As president of the revitalized Mus¬
lim League he had “numerous duties to perform and hardly any time to ac¬
cept invitations. We have reached a stage . . . when we must direct and
galvanise our forces for the purpose of some constructive scheme ... for
the educational social and economic uplift of our people.” A new school
was born that day: Jinnah noted that “Education is a matter of life and
death to our nation.”

A month’s tour, even in India’s best weather, left him limp, feverish,
:md too weak to attend the scheduled League council meeting that was to
have been held in New Delhi late in February. He was obliged to cancel
all commitments throughout February and March, including a scheduled
meeting with Wavell, and retreated behind the walls of his Malabar Hill
estate, seeing no one and accepting no calls. The viceroy was told “he has
touch of pleurisy and may be laid up for some time.” 12 By the end of March
lie was still dictating short letters such as this:

I regret to inform you that it is not possible for me to undertake any
public engagement for some time as I am ordered strictly to have
complete rest. . . . This breakdown was a serious warning to me
and my doctor's advice is that in no circumstances am I to depart
from what he considers complete rest. 13

Gandhi also suffered a physical relapse in January 1945, and with both
"I I hose aging titans on their backs, the younger leaders of Congress and
lln' League hoped lo fashion a new formula of political settlement, Bhu-
Inblnii Desai. the adroit Congress loudm in the Central I.egislnllve Assem¬
bly. and Muqimt All Klmii supposedly agreed upon I lint "lormiiln” for an

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

“Interim Government at Centre ,” 14 whereby the League and Congress
would each choose and control 40 percent of the cabinet, and leave the
remaining 20 percent for Sikhs and Untouchables to share, while the vice¬
roy and his commander-in-chief would remain British. Wavell and his sec¬
retary, Sir Evan Jenkins, were both assured by Desai that Jinnah and Gan-
dhi approved of this formula, but it remains unclear whether or not
Liaquat ever actually discussed the matter with Jinnah.

The Desai-Liaquat formula was, however, considered sufficiently im¬
portant and “ripe” to be argued threadbare by Britain’s War Cabinet,
which ordered Wavell to refrain from committing himself to any new po¬
litical “bridge” till its “strength and nature” were most “carefully tested.” 15
Wavell was invited home for direct consultations with the cabinet, and
Jinnah was reported to have said he “knew nothing of Desai’s scheme.” 16
Before the end of January, in fact, Jinnah notified the Associated Press that
“There is absolutely no foundation for connecting my name with talks
which may have taken place between Nawabzada Liaquat Ali Khan and
Mr. Bhulabhai Desai.” 17 Desai persisted nonetheless in stating privately
that he could guarantee the participation of Jinnah” in his scheme, if the
government accepted it, and quoted an old Gujarati proverb “to the effect
that Jinnah might grumble about the food, but would eat it.” 18

While Wavell, Amery, and the cabinet fiddled, Bengal and India con¬
tinued to burn from famine, war, and bureaucratic incompetence that
raged unabated across the land. Governor Casey noted most clearly the
failure of the British administration in his March 1, 1945, letter to the vice¬
roy, concluding that

In Bengal at least, after a century and a half of British rule, we can
point to no achievement worth the name in any direction. . . .
British administration [has been] . . . run on the minimum possible
expenditure of public moneys—very low taxation and no expenditure
of loan moneys for developmental purposes. The result has been a
pinchbeck policy under which the resources and potentialities of
Bengal have not been developed ... a suffocating system of red
tape has . . . throttled initiative, and has created in the minds of
the services (from whom plans ought to have been forthcoming) a
sense of frustration and stultification. 19

Despite the urgency and wisdom of Casey’s criticism, nothing was done
about the problems he noted; Wavell never so much as answered his letter.
Before the end of March, Nazimuddin’s ministry lost a vote of: confidence
in Calcutta, and Casey look direct control over the province, under Section
93 of the Government ol India Act ol 1935,

Simla (1944-45) 241

In mid-March the Muslim League’s ministry in the North-West Frontier
Province under Aurangzeb Khan also lost a vote of confidence, and gover¬
nor Sir George Cunningham turned to Congress leader. Dr. Khan Sahib, to
ask if he wanted to try forming a government with ministers drawn from
his own party. A “sealed letter” was reportedly sent by Gandhi from his
Wardha ashram to the frontier, apparently instructing Khan Sahib to ac¬
cept the governor’s invitation. 20 For the first time in over five years, after
all the Congress ministries had resigned in 1939, the Congress party thus
returned to provincial responsibility—in Peshawar. Jinnah was livid, but
personal frailty made it impossible for him to journey to the frontier. Sev¬
eral months earlier, he had been requested urgently to come to help heal
factional League strife there as he had in Sind. “It is up to you all to realize
that you have to put your house in order,” Quaid-i-Azam had written
League president Taj Ali in December 1944. “The Centre is doing its best
to help and guide, but the root is in the Province itself, and it is there¬
fore up to you all to work selflessly for the cause and establish solidarity
amongst those who understand . . . and create complete unity and disci¬
pline amongst our people.” 21 Fine advice, yet hardly enough to avert; the
daggers that brought the League ministry to its knees along the front in
less than half a year later. “Congress Muslims, under the order from Wardha.
have accepted office throwing away all their fundamental principles to the
four winds,” Jinnah declaimed in his Pakistan Day message to lla- press
that March 23.

It is not possible to believe that any Musalman, who has got the
slightest self-respect and an iota of pride left in him, can loin ale a
Ministry in a Muslim majority province, which takes order from and
is subject to the control of Mr. Gandhi at Sevagram or the (longo ss
who are deadly opponent [sic] to all Muslim aspirations and llielr
national demand. 22

jinnah’s same Pakistan Day message contained many images of illness
and warnings against conspiratorial “powers,” hidden “intrigues,” and ini
pending doom—all of which could be overcome only through Muslim unity
combined with faith in God.

I see powers working around us and our enemies are active, but let
us go forward undaunted, fearless, without faltering. . , , I have my
linger on the pulse of Muslim India, and 1 feel confident that ten
croros of Musalmans will stand as one man at any critical moment,
and will not hesitate to make every sacrifice, If we are to he thwarted,
Ignored or by-passed by those In power, . . , I’aklstan Is within our
grasp. Inslm Allah, vve shall win." 11

242 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

Wavell flew out of Delhi on March 20 and arrived in London three days
later. Amery had suggested “a small dinner party at 10 Downing Street” to
(Churchill to “welcome” his viceroy home, but the prime minister coldly re¬
plied: “My meeting with him had better be purely official.” 24 Addressing
the War Cabinet’s India committee chaired by Attlee, Wavell requested
authority to choose his executive council from among India’s political lead¬
ership, arguing that “there was a steady political deterioration and a worsen¬
ing in the administrative and the general position.” 25 He reported that Gan¬
dhi at seventy-five was “a fairly sick man, who according to some reports
could only think consecutively for a few minutes.” Wavell judged “Jinnah’s
control of the Muslim League more uncertain than it had been,” reporting
on the change of government in the North-West Frontier and the League
troubles in Sind, Assam, and the Punjab. He also informed the cabinet that
Jinnah “was not very fit, though his brain was as active as ever.” And since
Jawaharlal was still in jail, he “could not say how Nehru’s mind was work¬
ing, but thought he was still bitter and ... in the Congress he probably
commanded the political Left Wing, but not the industrialists from which
(longress drew its financial support.” 26

The war in Europe ended and Churchill’s government resigned before
I he cabinet could reach any conclusion about Wavell and India. “What a
crew they are for a perilous voyage!” the tired, frustrated viceroy con¬
fessed to his journal. 27 Wavell was, however, granted permission to con¬
vene a conference of “Indian leaders” to help him form a new executive
council that “would represent the main communities and would include
equal proportions of Caste Hindus and Moslems.” 28 He returned to New
Delhi on June 7, 1945, and informed his current council of the impending
changes. Almost all of the Indian members of the council called upon the
viceroy to make an immediate declaration of “complete dominion status”
for India.

"This is not an attempt to obtain or impose a constitutional settle¬
ment." the viceroy announced in his New Delhi broadcast on June 14.
"IIis Majesty's Government had hoped that the leaders of the Indian par-
lies would agree amongst themselves on a settlement of the communal is¬
sue, which is the main stumbling-block; but this hope has not been ful¬
filled." 211 Members of the Congress Working Committee were all released
from incarceration. In a press statement on the forthcoming conference,
Gandhi called the term “Caste Hindus” offensive, inaccurate, and opposed
to the "Modern tendency in Hinduism ... to abolish nil caste distinc¬
tions." Jlimah’s initial reaction was reflected in Dati n 's comment that the
"League could not participate hi |im| Executive Council in which non-
Leiigue Moslems were Included,"""

Simla (1944-45) 243

Wavell reserved a suite for Jinnah at Simla’s Cecil Hotel, inviting him
to the viceregal lodge for a private meeting on the evening of June 24 be¬
fore the scheduled official opening session of the Simla conference the next
morning. Jinnah accepted the invitation but suggested a two-weeks post¬
ponement of the conference to give him time to consult his Working Com¬
mittee on the “clarifications” he hoped to receive from the viceroy concern¬
ing conference proposals during their private meeting. Wavell refused to
be drawn into any such negotiations, insisting that the conference had to
start without delay.

“Gandhi and Jinnah are behaving like very temperamental prima don¬
nas,” Wavell informed his journal in mid-June, “and the latter is publishing
his telegrams in the Press before I even receive them; Gandhi at least had
the courtesy to ask whether I agreed to publication.” 31 The viceroy was be¬
ginning to recognize that his simplistic hopes for a settlement were less
realistic than he had assured Britain’s cabinet they were. On June 24,
Wavell met with Congress president Azad before lunch and with Gandhi
after lunch; it was his first conversation with the Mahatma, who was
“rather vague and discursive but on the whole gave his blessing to the pro¬
posals.” 32 As Gandhi left the viceregal lodge, Jinnah arrived to spend an
hour and a half alone with the viceroy, who found him “much more direct
than Gandhi, but whose manners are far worse.” 83

Lord Wavell officially opened the Simla conference at 11:00 a.m. on
June 25, 1945. Twenty-two political leaders of India assembled in the posh
ballroom of the viceregal lodge. President Azad spoke for Congress, stress¬
ing its “non-communal character.” Jinnah spoke next for the League and
said “Azad’s points were largely irrelevant to the immediate proposals,
calling upon the viceroy to address himself exclusively to those. “On the
nature of the Congress party I said that there was nothing in the proposals

10 brand it as a communal organisation,” Wavell reported to Amery. “Jin-
nuh interjected here that Congress represented only Hindus, a statement to
which Khan Sahib took vehement objection. I remarked that Congress rep¬
resented its members and both Congress and Jinnah accepted this. 34 Jin-
null asked to speak again before that first meeting adjourned, insisting the
I .tjugue would “not agree to any constitution except on the fundamental
principle of Pakistan.” The League “might well claim,” he argued, immedi-

11 I e concession of Pakistan as a prior condition to any cooperation, yet he
was willing to participate in this sort of conference thanks to his faith in
ilii' "Viceroy’s sincerity” and his belief that “the British Government and
people really wished to give a fair deal to British India.” Wavell felt much
relieved and concluded that night that bis "Conference bus got away to a
reasonably good start.”

244 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

On the morning of June 29 the conference reconvened, and the viceroy
asked all party leaders to send him panels of names of candidates for his
new council. Azad readily agreed, but Jinnah refused, arguing that he
could not submit any list before consulting his Working Committee. And
so the conference adjourned until July 14.

Wavell spent an hour and a half arguing with Jinnah on the evening of
July 8, “which left us where we began,” he reported. “He was obviously in
a high state of nervous tension, and said to me more than once; ‘I am at the
end of my tether’; he also said ‘I ask you not to wreck the League.’ He is
obviously in great difficulties; but they are largely of his own making by
his arrogance and intransigence. He fears now to be made the scapegoat
for the failure of the Conference; and yet will not give up anything of his
claim to represent all Muslims.” 35 At the end of their meeting, Jinnah still
refused to hand over a list of candidates that Wavell had requested for his
council but “left himself a loophole” by requesting a letter from the viceroy
spelling out precisely what it was he wanted. That letter came the next
day, and Jinnah placed it before his Working Committee on July 9,1945.

I fully appreciate your difficulties, but regret that I am unable to
give you the guarantee you wish, i.e., that all the Muslim members
of the proposed new Council shall necessarily be members of the
Muslim League. ... I have to attempt to form an Executive Coun¬
cil representative, competent, and generally acceptable. ... It will
help me greatly if you will let me have names. ... I asked for eight,
but will certainly accept five if you do not wish to send more. 36

“The Committee, after giving its very careful consideration to the mat¬
ter,” Jinnah replied the same day, “desires me to state that it regrets very
much to note that Your Excellency is not able to give the assurance that all
the Muslim members of the proposed Executive Council will be selected
from the Muslim League . . . the Committee considers this as one of the
fundamental principles, and, in the circumstances, I regret I am not in a
position to send the names ... it is not possible for us to depart from our
fundamental principles.” 37

The viceroy remained equally resolved not to “give way on this point”
and wired Amery that night to propose his own list of new council mem¬
bers, four of whom were to be Muslim League members (Liaquat Ali,
Khaliquazzaman, Nazimuddin, and Eassak Sait) and the fifth, a Muslim
landlord from the Punjab, Sir Muhammad Nawaz Khan. The five “Caste
Hindus” were to have been Nehru, Patel, Rujondra Prasad, l)r. M. S. Anoy,
and Sir B. N. Han. Masha- Turn Singh was to represent the? Sikhs, and Dr.
Anibedkur mid Munlswiiml I’lllul the Scheduled Castes (Untouchables).

Simla (1944-45) 245

Dr. John Matthai of Madras University (later Nehru’s private secretary)
was to have been the council’s sole Indian Christian, thus bringing the to¬
tal to sixteen with the viceroy and his commander-in-chief.

The British cabinet, being “rather pernickety,” 38 insisted that Wavell see
Jinnah first and tell him the names of the Muslim members he planned to
propose, and to “try to persuade Jinnah” to put forward those names as his
party’s list. Good soldier that he was, Wavell met with Jinnah on July 11,
trying again to alter his position. “He refused even to discuss names unless
he could be given the absolute right to select all Muslims and some guar¬
antee that any decision which the Muslims opposed in Council could only
be passed by a two-thirds majority—in fact a kind of communal veto. I said
that these conditions were entirely unacceptable,” Wavell recorded, “and
the interview ended.” 39 The viceroy saw Gandhi an hour later and told him
of the conference breakdown. Gandhi took the news “calmly, but said that
H. M. G. would have to decide sooner or later to accept the Hindu or the
Muslim point of view, since they were irreconcilable.” 40

The utter failure of Wavell’s Simla conference served only to under¬
score the intensity of communal distrust that remained India’s key political
problem. Many British officials expected that this failure would weaken
Jinnah’s power over the League, but his presidential position seemed in¬
stead to grow stronger as the demand for Pakistan gained credence among
Muslims across the land. At the closing session of the conference on July 1 I.
Jinnah stated that “Pakistan and United India were diametrically opposed

10 each other . . . Musalmans of India were determined to have Pakistan.”

“So my efforts to bring better understanding between the parties have

failed and have shown how wide is the gulf,” noted the weary Wavell.
"Whether I have done more good or harm by trying, only time will show. 11
lie thought “Jinnah made a tactical blunder in not bringing the matter to
an issue,” and his final assessment of the Quaid-i-Azam was, “narrow and
arrogant . . . actuated mainly by fear and distrust of the Congress . . .
constitutionally incapable of friendly cooperation with the other party.” 42

Amery shrewdly reminded Wavell that thanks to Simla, the Congress
leaders had, once again, been “brought right up against the fact that it is

1 1 m Muslim League and not you or I who stand in the way of their aspira¬
tions, . . . They must now either acquiesce in Pakistan, or realise that they
have somehow or other to win over Muslim support against Jinnah, and
I ha t a mere facade of tame Congress Muslims does not help them/’ 48 The
secretary of slate suggested holding elections that winter and argued dial

ll by no means follows I lull Jinnah will sweep the hoard In the Muslim
I’lnvliiee.s. ... On the other hand, if he foully dooH, then Ills elalin I hut the
Muslim members should all he .libers of the League could not so well

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

be resisted.” Amery himself had, however, just fought and lost his last elec¬
tion campaign. Britain’s postwar Labour landslide brought Attlee and his
party to power with a resounding majority of 200 in the House of Com¬
mons. When the viceroy learned that his new master in Whitehall was to
be Lord Pethick-Lawrence (1871-1961), his initial reaction was to “fear he
may have fixed and old-fashioned ideas derived mainly from Congress con¬
tacts. ' 14 That very day in early August of 1945, however, a more awesome
explosion at Hiroshima inaugurated an age that was to accelerate the pace
ol history, bringing World War II to an end within the week and hustling
the British raj out of its deep ruts of stately bureaucratic stagnation.

Quetta and Peshawar
( 1945 - 46 )

The aftermath of the Simla conference debacle was a governors meeting in
New Delhi to help Wavell and Whitehall decide their next political move.
Winter elections, most agreed, were now required, but the Punjab’s Gover¬
nor Glancy argued vigorously against any elections till an economic plan¬
ning conference could be called to expose the potential pitfalls of Pakistan.
"Unless the Muslim League could be steered away from the crude version
of Pakistan,” he insisted, “there would be civil war in the Punjab; and im¬
mediate Central elections might consolidate the Muslim League position.” 1
(Jlancy feared that Punjab Muslims would vote on what might appear to
them simply as a “religious issue,” and his concerns reflected Khizar’s deep¬
est apprehensions as well. Bengal’s governor conceded that none of his
loading Muslims “could explain what Pakistan meant. In the last resort they
idways fell back on Jinnah, e.g., they said that Jinnah was satisfied that Pa¬
kistan was economically sound, therefore it must be so.” 2 Casey thought
lime “an important factor,” since he doubted that Jinnah had “any real suc¬
cessor” and argued that the “Pakistan idea might go to pieces” without him.

"There are only two major parties in this country,” Jinnah insisted, re-
.1 ut mg Nehru’s famous 1937 formula in his first public pronouncement in
Bombay following the Simla conference. “Invitations issued to Mr. Gan¬
dhi iirnl myself were on the basis that Mr. Gandhi was the recognised
louder of one of the parties and myself the leader of the other. The British
Milled them parties, but in fact they are two major nations.” 3 No other
lormula would satisfy him. A quarter of a century after his public humilia¬
tion at Nagpur lie Imd risen from the dust ol ignominy to stand erect at
dnuIll's door, proclaiming to the world llial Mv. Gandhi was no heller Ilian
Mr. Jlnnuli. merely Ills opposite number In a dllforeiil "major notion. |in

248

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

nah seemed quite obsessed with Gandhi and his behavior, minutely exam¬
ining and questioning all facets of his activity.

When it suits him, he represents nobody, he can talk in individual
capacity; he is not even a four-anna member of the Congress; he un¬
dertakes fast to decide the political issue; he reduces himself to zero
and consults his inner voice; yet when it suits him, he is the supreme
dictator of the Congress! He thinks he represents whole of India. Mr.
Gandhi is an enigma. . . . How can we come to a settlement with
him? There was so much venom and bitterness against the Muslims
and the Muslim League that the Congress were prepared to go to
any length with two objectives; first, to hammer down, humiliate and
discourage the Muslim League and every method was adopted to
bully us, coerce us and to threaten us to surrender; the second was
to see Muslim League ignored and by-passed and for that purpose,
they stooped to the lowest point, that they threw up their principles
to the winds. 4

Many of the ambivalent fears preoccupying Jinnah’s mind then were trig¬
gered, as usual, by thoughts of Gandhi—with whom he associated “venom
and bitterness,” and what to Jinnah were the two most heinous objectives,
to hammer down, humiliate, discourage and bully,” or to “ignore and by¬
pass,” him. Whether it was through humiliating action or silent contempt,
nothing could be more shattering to his self-image or more painful to his
sensitivity of heart and mind. He considered it far better to die fighting at
the head of his own smaller party-nation than to live in the shadow of so
insulting an “enigma.”

To fill the League’s election war chest, Jinnah spoke again in August in
his home city, accusing Congress of trying “by hook or by crook” to lure
Muslims into an “all-India union,” and warning that “they look to the Brit¬
ish bayonets to perform the task for them and hence they resort to alter¬
nating and varying methods, flattering and hurling abuses, cringing and
giving threats to the British Government. . . . But we cannot agree to any
arrangement, which means freedom for Hindus and establishment of ‘Hindu
Raj’ and slavery for the Muslims.” 5 His listeners donated over 300,000 ru¬
pees that day, funds which Jinnah called the League’s “silver bullets.”

“The Labour Party is, of course, both by its convictions and by its pub¬
lic utterances, committed to do its utmost to bring about a settlement of
the India problem,” wrote Pethick-Lawrencc to Wavell in his first weekly
letter. “I feel sure that my colleagues will welcome your proposal to hold
elections, which 1 am supporting to them in a paper which should lie con¬
sidered within the next lew days."' 1 The new secretary of stale was "greatly
allmeled" to Indian thought mid culture; he had visited India with Ills mil

QUETTA AND PESHAWAR ( 1945-46 ) 249

fragette wife in 1926-27, served as a member of the Round Table confer¬
ence in 1931, and was the most empathetic master of the India Office to In¬
dian national aspirations since Montagu or Morley.

Glancy did his best to derail early elections, fearing Pakistan yet finding
that throughout the Muslim districts of the Punjab since the Simla confer¬
ence Jinnah’s “stock has been standing very high. ... He has been hailed
as the champion of Islam. ... I must confess that I am gravely perturbed
about the situation, because there is a very serious danger of the elections
being fought, so far as Muslims are concerned, on an entirely false is¬
sue. . . . The uninformed Muslim will be told that the question he is
called on to answer at the polls is-Are you a true believer or an infidel and
a traitor? ... if Pakistan becomes an imminent reality, we shall be head¬
ing straight for blood-shed on a wide scale; non-Muslims, especially Sikhs,
are not bluffing, they will not submit peacefully to a Government that is
labelled ‘Muhammadan Raj.’” 7 No Englishman so clearly foresaw the
dreadful implications of the partition of the Punjab, yet Glancy’s voice
from the hinterland elicited no echo in the rarified corridors of Whitehall.

On August 20, 1945, Wavell was invited home for consultation with the
new cabinet and authorized to announce that elections would be held
lliroughout British India during the “next cold weather.” Before leaving
India, the viceroy sent Pethick-Lawrence his summary analysis of the
I ’nkistan “problem,” first explaining that what Glancy had written about the
Punjab and partition would similarly apply to Bengal, “but the Punjabis are
tougher than the Bengalis, and the Sikhs, who were the rulers in the Punjab
before we annexed it, would fight rather than see their Holy Land pass
under permanent Muslim rule.” 8 He then noted the seeming paradox that
support for “the Pakistan idea” was much stronger among Muslims in
Miislim-minority provinces than in the “Pakistan Provinces.” Wavell re¬
marked that he had always hoped to be able to “avoid” any full-scale public
Inquiry into the feasibility and implications of Pakistan, since he antici¬
pated that Jinnah would “boycott” such a conference or commission and it
miglil only stir up communal “feeling.” He felt, however, that continuing
In Ignore Urn possibility of its birth would not make Pakistan fade away.

Wavell reached London before the end of August and found Pethick-
I uwrenev, who "looks old, is pleasant and amiable,” waiting to welcome
bim borne and motor with him to Claridges. They conferred in Whitehall
ilie next day for an hour and a half. Two days later Wavell met with the
India committee ( ,| ibe cabinet chaired by Attlee. Sir Stafford Cripps, now
pn'.ldeni ol Ibe Board of Trade, was llie committee's most formidable
member, I be Viceroy reported I lint he "thought il most unlikely” that
lliuiidi would culcr Into dheiiNHlonx without u guarantee of iieocptiuier of

250 JINN AH OF PAKISTAN

Pakistan, at least “in principle.” Wavell’s own judgment was that “Jinnah
spoke for 99 per cent of the Muslim population of India in their apprehen¬
sion of Hindu domination. . . . The real strength of Mr. Jinnah’s position
was the widespread and genuine fear among Indian Muslims of Hindu
domination and Hindu raj.” 9 There had been a “very great hardening” in
the positions of the Indian parties since 1942, the viceroy argued, and he
saw no readiness on the part of any party in India at present to accept the
Cripps offer. As for the Constituent Assembly, Muslims would “boycott it
unless the Pakistan issue was conceded.” Yet to concede that issue might
lead to “a boycott by the Hindus.”

Except for Attlee, who had less and less time for India as prime minis¬
ter, Cripps and Pethick-Lawrence were the only cabinet members to con¬
cern themselves deeply with Indian affairs at this time, and Cripps consid¬
ered his friends Birla and Nehru right in downgrading Jinnah’s power or
potential. Nor did he take Wavell very seriously. Wavell, on the other hand,
fearing from reports of Patel’s and Nehru’s speeches that Congress was
preparing another revolutionary confrontation with the government, in¬
clined more favorably toward Jinnah and the Muslim League, who might
prove to be his only allies in the coming struggle for power. So despite
Labour’s greater sympathy for India and its strongly stated interest in
"helping” India resolve its complex political problems, this cabinet, like
ils predecessor, simply stood behind the Cripps offer of 1942, and ignored
I lie monumental historic changes wrought by three intervening years, self-
rigliteously professing that “If the Indian parties, or any of them, were not
prepared to co-operate, the responsibility would be theirs.” Wavell and
IVIhick-Lawrence went back to their drawing boards to seek a better way
of informing India that Great Britain’s new postwar policy was the same
old Cripps position. The viceroy met with Churchill on the eve of the
r\ prime minister’s departure for Lake Como and was ’’shocked” to learn
dial the “only reason” Churchill “had agreed to my political move [the first
Simla Conference] was that the India Committee had all told him it was
bound to fail!” 10

Jinnah had taken his pre-election fund-raising tour to Karachi en route
to k>uel:tii where the dry cool air was thought to be best for his lungs. Ilis
message was simple and the same wherever he spoke—the Muslim League
was “the only authoritative and representative” party of Muslims through¬
out India, and the sole platform of the League was Pakistan. Jinnah began
to net like the head of a separate nation, moreover; he wired Attlee at this
time to protest any softening of Britain's ban on Jewish refugees being ad¬
mitted Into Palestine, warning the prime minister: "ll is my duty to inform
you I hut any NiilTnider to appease Jewry ill the saei lliee of Arabs would he

QUETTA AND PESHAWAR ( 1945-46) 251

deeply resented and vehemently resisted by Muslim world and Muslim
India and its consequences will be most disastrous.” 11

With Jinnah obliged to remain in Baluchistan, too weak to travel dur¬
ing the 1945 campaign, Liaquat Ali and other Working Committee mem¬
bers of the Central Parliamentary Board and Committee of Action actually
ran the Muslim League from its New Delhi headquarters and ticketed can¬
didates. Much provincial controversy, bickering, and backbiting ensued,
especially in Bengal, Sind, and the North-West Frontier. In mid-September,
Sir Firoz Khan Noon had resigned his defence seat on the viceroy’s execu¬
tive council to return home to the Punjab to campaign there as a League
candidate, but a month later Wavell reported to Pethick-Lawrence that
Sir Firoz “has not been universally welcomed, and I doubt if the Party
there [in the Punjab] is as united and cordial as it might be. The Muslim
League have always suffered from lack of organization as compared with
the Congress, and if they waste their time in personal quarrels, they may
suffer at the polls.” 12

“Pakistan is the question of life and death for us,” Jinnah told a public
meeting in Ahmedabad that final week in October, stopping on his way
home to Bombay to pick up a check for 200,000 rupees collected from
Gujarati Muslims. “I had asked for silver bullets to fight the election cam¬
paign, and Ahmedabad had responded next to Bombay which was a richer
city. ... All Muslims believed in one God and were one nation. They
wanted Pakistan and would attain it. It was their amulet, their charm
which would increase their strength and glory. . . . The moon of Pakistan
is shining and we shall reach it,” 13 he assured the cheering crowd.

On November 1, Jinnah predicted a Muslim League “sweep” at the
polls, informing a reporter from the Associated Press that he could not
Agree with critics of his Pakistan plan “who contend it is unworkable. . . .
Our next step will be a demand upon Britain for recognition.” 14 Congress
continued to demand “immediate independence” for India as a whole, un¬
der a government selected by the Congress high command. Wavell alerted
Ills officials and prepared to declare “martial law.” Politician Pethick-
I .awrence, however, read none of Wavell’s anxious reports of Congress
campaign rhetoric with great alarm, yet cabled the viceroy to ask: “But
i dii Jinnah be induced to accept a modified form of it [Pakistan] which it
might be possible to concede?” 16

Cripps now advised the Cabinet committee to send a parliamentary
delegation to India and urge the viceroy to meet with Gandhi, reporting
"lie understood tliiil Gandhi was ready and willing to influence Indian
opinion towards moderation."" 1 II. as anticipated idler elections, Congress
would be "the majority parly." II would no longer bo possible lo I real limn

252

253

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

Irresponsibly, hence Labours Pethick-Lawrence and Cripps resolved to
keep the viceroy in rein on the rugged political road toward India’s inde¬
pendent rule, rather than allowing him to bolt off on any smoother martial
freeway.

Wavell, however, was losing all patience with India’s growing political
complexity and penchant for debate. His silences became more ominously
eloquent. Boredom and depression settled deep inside the aging marshal’s
soul, as he had earlier noted in a journal entry of mid-November 1945:
"Back this evening from U.P. It was the dullest tour I have done, tiring,
depressing and hot.” To Whitehall, Wavell wired an “immediate, top
secret” reply: “I do not think it advisable that I should invite Gandhi to
see me.” 17

Much of Wavell’s depression, and that of his commander-in-chief. Gen¬
eral Auchinleck, as well as most of the senior British martial and civil
officers in India at this time, was immediately associated with the pas¬
sionate hue and cry raised against British rule that November as soon as
the first leaders of Subhas Bose’s Indian National Army were brought to
trial for treason in New Delhi’s Red Fort. Bose had died in a plane crash on
Formosa, but three of his leading lieutenants, one Plindu, one Muslim, and
one Sikh, all of whom had been serving in the British army in Singapore
when it surrendered, emerged now as national heroes. Nehru, Bhulabhai
Dcsai, and Tej Bahadur Sapru volunteered to defend Bose’s officers, who
Worts brought home in irons only to be hailed as patriots throughout the
land. In Bose’s home city, Calcutta, riots of protest raged, leaving over
thirty dead, hundreds injured, and countless rupees in property burned and
ravaged. Soon after the trial got underway most British officials realized
lliiil they had made a terrible mistake in giving the Indian National Army
so much publicity and so prominent a platform.

General Sir Claude Auchinleck in a top secret letter to Wavell on No¬
vember 24, 1945, wrote:

The evidence reaching us now increasingly goes to show that the
general opinion in the Army (as opposed to that of certain units and
individuals who have particular reasons for bitterness) is in favour
of leniency. If you agree . . . in the case of the present trials, the
sentences would be commuted if it was clear from the evidence when
the trials arc concluded that the accused were carrying out what
they believed to be their duty. 18

I o Wavell. more than any message he received from Whitehall, this let tor
from the "Auck" convinced him that the days of the raj wore numbered.
I hr world war may have boon won, hut India was "lost |imiiih per,sunnily

QUETTA AND PESHAWAR ( 1945-46)

played no part in the great trial of the Indian National Army, though the
League associated itself with the defense since, as British Intelligence
opined, “the trial of Muslims may make their effect increasingly felt on
the Muslim Public and League alike.” 19

For the first time since 1936, Jinnah journeyed to the frontier to cam¬
paign for a week. He addressed a Muslim League conference in Peshawar
on November 24, 1945: “We have no friends. . . . Neither the British, nor
the Hindus are our friends. We are clear in our own minds that we have to
fight against both of them. If both (being Banias) are combined against
us, we shall not be afraid of them. We shall fight their united might and,
Inshaallah, win in the end.” 20 When Jinnah asked the crowd if they wanted
Pakistan or not, their answer came in deafening shouts of “Allah-o-Akbar”
(“God is Great”). To win Pakistan, he assured them, all they had to do was
to “vote for the League candidates.” Then he became defensive, sarcastic,
irate: “They [Hindus] ask: ‘What are the sacrifices of Mr. Jinnah and the
Muslim League?’ It is true that I have not been to jail. Never mind. I am
a bad person. But I ask you, ‘Who made sacrifices in 1920-21?’ Mr. Gandhi
ascends the gaddi [throne] of leadership on our skulls.” 21 This last state¬
ment came closest to revealing Jinnah’s deepest grievance, reverting to the
worst trauma of his political life when he actually appeared to have felt
Mr. Gandhi step on his “skull” to ascend the throne of Congress national
leadership.

In Calcutta, Casey was beside himself with frustration and fear in the
face of the pro-Indian National Army riots that left thirty-three dead, hun¬
dreds wounded, and all but wrecked the city. Bengal’s governor met
with Gandhi in Calcutta early in December and reported to Wavell that
"His political reasoning lacked realism and balance. However there was no
sign of senility.” 22 At their second talk, Casey told Gandhi that what was
"standing in the way of self-government for India” was not the British but
the Muslim League, which was “suffering from Hinduphobia.” Casey urged
that Congress should make a “public announcement of a substantial list of
safeguards” it would be willing to insert in a new constitution for Muslims
to “blunt the edge” of League fears and suspicions. Gandhi responded that
he had “conceded safeguard after safeguard” to Jinnah, who “constantly
raised his price” until he reached what in essence was Pakistan; and
Gandhi did not believe “anything less would satisfy him.” Gandhi also told
Casey that “lie believed jinnah to be a very ambitious man and that he
had visions ol linking up the Moslems of India with the Moslems in the
Middle Fast and elsewhere and that he did not believe that he could be
i Idden oil his dreams." 211

The League won uII thirty central assembly seals (one of them Jinnah s)

254

255

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

that December, a stunning victory that validated Jinnah’s prediction and
appeared to prove the universal appeal of Pakistan among Muslims of the
subcontinent. Congress, though it retained a majority of fifty-five, actually
lost four seats. The first round was over. The “day is not far off,” Jinnah
promised his jubilant followers, “when Pakistan shall be at your feet.” 24
lie directed more criticism and sarcasm at Nehru, mocking him as “the
impetuous Pandit who never unlearns or learns anything and never grows
old . . . nothing but Peter Pan.” 25

Pethick-Lawrence wrote to Jinnah and Azad to inform them of the
parliamentary delegation’s forthcoming visit and asked if they would meet
with the British to “discuss matters with them.” 26 Jinnah met the ten-mem¬
ber deputation led by Labours Professor R. Richards in New Delhi on
January 10, 1946. Five days earlier Jinnah had talked with Wavell for an
hour. But Jinnah’s refusal to allow Liaquat to meet with Wavell shows how
Httle he trusted any of his lieutenants to participate in tough negotiations
with the government. He alone felt confident in giving nothing away as he
wrestled to win Pakistan.

As the provincial election campaigns heated up, reports of Hindu-
Muslim riots, and of “poisonous propaganda” especially in the Punjab, in¬
creased. Moreover, Pethick-Lawrence had concluded by then that it would
be useless to leave another round of political negotiations to the viceroy
alone, and nothing less than a cabinet mission to India was required to
break the Hindu-Muslim “deadlock.” Three ministers with “full authority
lo decide points at issue” led by the secretary of state would have to fly out
shortly before provincial elections were concluded, sometime in March. The
cabinet recognized that this mission might, in fact, be its final card in the
game of British India spinning so swiftly to its tragic finale. If negotiations
broke down, civil disobedience would follow, and things could not long
remain nonviolent. The army might even decide not to obey orders. Com¬
mutation of Indian National Army trial sentences had accelerated the meta¬
morphosis of “mutineers” into national heroes. The total number of Euro-
pom is in all official services was rapidly dwindling, as many more old hands
exorcised their option of retiring on their pensions back home. Precious
little time left.

The cabinet decided in February to send Cripps and first lord of the
admiralty, A. V. Alexander to India to be, together with Pethick-Lawrence,

I heir three wise. men. Wavell was afraid Cripps would be the “operative
element” among those magi and considered Cripps “sold to the Congress
point of view" and not quite “straight" in his ■'methods."'' 7 A month before
the cabinet mission left for India, the parliamentary delegation led by

QUETTA AND PESHAWAR ( 1945-46)

Richards returned to 10 Downing Street to report what it had found. Most
members agreed that some form of Pakistan would have to be conceded—
and the sooner the better. Mrs. Muriel Nichol, who admitted that she began
her visit to India “impressed by the strong necessity of maintaining the
unity of India,” found the Punjab “explosive.” The Muslim population there
was “all worked up in favour of Pakistan,” she concluded, and therefore, it
“must be conceded.” She believed Jinnah would modify his demand, but
only if the “principle” were granted “at an early stage.” 28 Brigadier Austin
Low felt it “would be undersirable that II. M. G. should make a declaration
in favour of Pakistan”; he agreed that “it might be necessary” but feared
“Pakistan is not a viable proposition.” M. P. Reginald Sorensen “regarded
Pakistan as wholly irrational—he was not sure that Mr. Jinnah could be
regarded as a rational person—but, in his view, necessary.” Mr. Arthur Bot-
lomley “did not like Pakistan but thought it would be necessary ... (a)
to avoid widespread bloodshed, (b) to preserve our own trade interests,
lor whereas the strong tendency in the Congress majority Provinces was to
boycott trade with the United Kingdom, the Muslims were eager to do
business with us.” 29

Pethick-Lawrence’s brilliant private secretary, Francis Turnbull, then
prepared a note on the “viability of Pakistan,” which helped brief the cabi¬
net mission prior to the start of negotiations. “There is bound to be an eco¬
nomic price to pay for the satisfaction of the Moslem demand for political
independence,” that weighty document drafted primarily by Mr. Turnbull,
warned.

The division of India will be born in bitter antagonism and it will
certainly be rash to assume that this will not be reflected in the ef¬
forts necessary to regulate the machinery of communications and of
economic intercourse between the Pakistan States and the rest of
India. ... It is hard to resist the conclusion that taking all these
considerations into account the splitting up of India will be the re¬
verse of beneficial so far as the livelihood of the people is concerned. 30

To compound India’s problems, drought brought famine to most of the
southern provinces of the subcontinent, and grain shortages were starting
In spread from Bengal to the frontier. Wavell appealed to Gandhi and
|Iiniiili lo nominate deputies to accompany an official food delegation to
London and to the United States. Jinnah responded positively. Wavell re-
ported llml Gandhi advised him to "send for Azad and talk to him. 31 With
lood grains rationed to twelve ounces per day, mass protest marches began
In many Indian cities starling with Allahabad. Visible ‘deterioration of

256

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

257

health” was widespread. The average Indian’s rationed diet provided no
more than 1,200 calories, fewer than half the minimal requirement for nor¬
mal daily activity.” 32

On February 18, 1946, most of the sailors in the Royal Indian Navy in
Bombay harbor went on “strike” for higher wages. The next day 3,000 of
those “mutineers,” as the British considered them, marched around Bom-
hay, stirring tens of thousands of ardent street supporters. The Congress
Hag flew from both the H.M.I.S. Tahvar and the H.M.I.S. Lahore, as well
as from the hats of many jubilant sailors, who called themselves members
ol the I.N.N. (Indian National Navy), in emulation of Bose’s I.N.A. (In¬
dian National Army). On February 22, the mutineers were told that only
“unconditional surrender” would be accepted. General Sir R. M. Lockhart,
in command of Bombay, had “ample force available,” Wavell reported, so
thul “if ships open fire, they will have to be sunk.” 33 Vallabhbhai Patel went
out to the ships and persuaded the mutineers to surrender without firing.
Sailors in Karachi harbor followed the lead of their Bombay comrades,
however, and in the aftermath of both “mutinies” rioting left some 200
civilians dead, as elections continued.

Provincial returns from the Punjab in late February gave the League 75
ol 88 Muslim seats, a clear mandate for Pakistan among Muslims of the
province, though not enough votes to allow the League to form a ministry,
without either Sikh or Congress support. In Sind the League’s plight was
much the same, with 28 out of 34 seats, while in Assam though even a
higher percentage of Muslim League candidates won (31 out of 34), Con¬
gress again refused to enter a coalition government with its most hated
rival. Jinnah’s party soon scored a singular victory in Bengal, however,
winning 113 out: of 119 Muslim seats. The League lost badly on the fron-
I icr, with only 17 out of 38 seats. The overall provincial tally gave the
I league more than 88 percent of the Muslim vote nonetheless—quite enough
l«) legitimize the Pakistan demand in the eyes of the world.

"The British Government and the British people desire, without reserva¬
tion, In consummate the promises and pledges that have been made,”

■ '‘•thick I .iiwrenee stated as he and his Cabinet colleagues touched Indian
soil that March 23. 34 Major Woodrow Wyatt returned to India with the
Cabinet Mission as Cripps’ assistant, and was the first member of the Mis¬
sion to meet with Jinnah again, visiting him at home in New Delhi on
March 27, Major Wyatt had "an old friend . . . who is quite close to Jin-
null," the I xuiiit if til young "Tn/.i” (Miimtaz) Shah Nawaz, Sir Muhammad
Shulls granddaughter, who kepi him informed ol Jinnah’s thinking and the
Internal dynamics ol the League, to which she belonged. "The* Muslim
League ncciiin to l»c solidly behind Jlnnali,” Wyatt reported to Cripps on

QUETTA AND PESHAWAR ( 1945-46)

March 28. 35 Cripps met with Jinnah for an hour on the morning of March
30. “He was calm and reasonable but completely firm on Pakistan.” 36 As a
result of that conversation, Jinnah agreed to invite Gandhi to meet him.
As was so often the case at the start of previous negotiations, Jinnah’s open¬
ing posture was surprisingly cordial and disarmingly reasonable.

Gandhi appeared before the Mission on April 3, “naked except for a
dhoti and looking remarkably healthy.” 37 Wavell reported.

Mr. Gandhi said that he had passed 18 days with Mr. Jinnah. ITe
claimed to be a sincere friend of the Muslims but had never been
able to appreciate the Pakistan which Mr. Jinnah says he means. . . .

His Pakistan was a sin which he (Mr. Gandhi) would not commit.

The substance of Pakistan as he understood it was independence of
culture and a legitimate ambition. . . . The two-nation theory is far
more dangerous. The Muslim population is a population of converts
... all descendants of Indian-born people. Jinnah is sincere but his
logic is utterly at fault especially as a kind of mania possesses him.

He himself was called a maniac and he therefore honoured Jinnah
for his mania. . . . He asked Jinnah whether his own son [Harilal
Gandhi] who had gone over to the Muslim religion changed his na¬
tionality by doing so. . . . Let Mr. Jinnah form the first Government
and choose its personnel from elected representatives in the country.
The Viceroy would appoint them formally but, in fact, Mr. Jinnah
would choose. If he does not do so then the offer to form a Govern¬
ment should be made to Congress. . . . The Interim Government
must be absolutely national. Mr. Jinnah could choose who he liked
for his Government. They would be subject to the vote of the Assem¬
bly from which they were drawn. 38

I ‘('thick-Lawrence interrupted Gandhi at this point to note that Jinnah’s
party had not won a majority of the assembly seats, hence he would be
asked to preside over a government, most of whose ministers belonged to
"parties other than his own.” Gandhi said that was “inescapable.” The
secretary of state pointed out that “Jinnah’s government” would, in that
case, have to be predominantly Hindu! “Mr. Gandhi said he did not under-
mir llie difficulties of the situation which the Delegation had to face. If he
w ere not an Irresponsible optimist he would despair of any solution.”

|iim;il) arrived for his interview the next morning at ten and spoke to
the mission for three hours, “of which at least two were, to my mind,” noted
Wavell, "entirely wasted," 311 jinnah began with an historical survey of

I I ii I In. showing how rarely in Its long past India had been unified. “A
11 Inch I will wash Ills hands after shaking hands with a Muslim,” he argued,
though he personally wits probably moic scrupulous In that particular habit

258

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

I liun uny Hindu he knew. It seemed, moreover, that he professed too much
when he added: “No Hindu will let Mr. Jinnah have a room in his build¬
ing. Hindu society and philosophy are the most exclusive in the world. . . .

I low are you to put 100 millions of Muslims together with 250 millions
whose way of life is so different.” 40 Cripps then asked whether Jinnah
thought the difference between Hindus and Muslims in Bengal was greater
than the difference between the Pathans and Muslims of Sind. Jinnah
argued that “the fundamentals” were common to all Muslims. He had
traveled everywhere, and wherever he met Muslims, they believed “in one
* aid. They believed in equality of men and in human brotherhood. The

II Indus believe in none of these principles.”

Pethick-Lawrence and Cripps both tackled Jinnah on questions of de¬
le use, especially Pakistan’s vulnerability from the Northwest, trying their
best to get him to admit that some unified joint chiefs structure would be
best lor all parties concerned; but Jinnah stood his ground on a totally
sovereign Pakistan demand, demonstrating the singular tenacity of his ad¬
vocacy.

Nehru was on tour in Southeast Asia at this time; his visit to Malaya
was a great popular success, thanks in no small measure to the warmth of
bol d and Lady Mountbatten’s welcome there. “In all the public speeches
which Nehru made during this visit the central theme was Asiatic unity,”
a Millish official reported to the India Office. “He was a little scornful of
I innali and doubted very much whether he had either the intention or the
power (o start a revolt in India if he did not secure Pakistan. . . . ‘Jinnah’
be said, 'rather reminds me of the man who was charged with the murder
ol his mother and father and begged the clemency of the Court on the
ground that he was an orphan.’ ” 41

( a ipps was then ready with his top secret double-barreled solution for
< 'ongross and the League to consider. Proposal A was a three-part “Union
ol All India’ offer with the Ilindu-majority provinces, Muslim-majority
provinces, and princely states all under the umbrella of a minimal union
government that controlled defence, foreign affairs and communications.
Proposal M was that there should be “two Indias formed from the terri-
loi'ies of British India, Hindustan and Pakistan, to either of which the
Indian States could be invited to federate.” 42 The exact limits of Pakistan
would he determined from the religious identity of populations in all dis¬
tricts in the Northwest and Northeast regions. Since Pakistan was predi¬
cated on the Iwo-nation theory based solely on religion, "It would be
wholly inconsistent with this theory if non-Muslim majority areas should
he added lo I’akislmi in order to give a belter economic basis nor would it
add lo Km uvontiml Nl, ability If large minorities woo lo be thus included

QUETTA AND PESHAWAR ( 1945-46) 259

against their will.” 43 There would have to be some form of treaty drawn up
between these two “independent sovereign States” to deal with essential
economic matters and questions of defense, foreign policy, and communi¬
cations vital to both nations. Since time was running out, Cripps proposed
presenting the details of these two schemes to the leaders of all major
parties, insisting that within a few days they notify the mission of their
willingness to accept either plan A or plan B. “If neither of the plans meets
with general acceptance ... we must recommend that the one which has
the greatest volume of support is immediately acted upon . . . failing that
general acceptance we shall use all our influence to put through that
scheme which has the greatest measure of support.” 44

Another week of interviews contributed little to what the mission had
already learned but helped refine their alternative schemes, which were
presented first of all to Jinnah on April 16, 1946. “Before the interview with
Jinnah we had 20 minutes Press photography, sitting round a table and
very obviously not talking business,” Wavell reported. “I dislike this mod¬
ern craze for publicity.” 45 Turnbull, Wavell, and Cripps had each prepared
“briefs” on how best to tackle Jinnah, a unique tribute to his powers of
debate. Pethick-Lawrence opened the meeting by informing Jinnah that
his “full and complete demand for Pakistan” had “little chance of accep¬
tance” and that he could not “reasonably hope to receive both the whole of
the territory, much of it inhabited by non-Muslims, which he claimed and
the full measure of sovereignty which he said was essential.” 46 Hence there
was plan A or B, each of which he spelled out. Which did Jinnah prefer?

“Mr. Jinnah asked how Pakistan came in under the proposed all-India
Union,” the secret record of that interview reported.

The Secretary of State said that briefly there were two propositions—
a small Pakistan with sovereign rights and a Treaty relation, and a
larger Pakistan. . . . The latter would come together with Hindustan
on terms of equality within an all-India Union. . . . Sir. S. Cripps
said that under the second alternative two Federations would be cre¬
ated linked by a Union Centre. . . . The communal balance would
be retained at the Centre by some means even if the States came in
there. Mr. Jinnah asked how the Union Executive would be formed.

Sir S. Cripps said that the Federations would choose the members of
the Union Executive. Mr. Jinnah asked how, if there were equal rep¬
resentation. decisions were to be reached. ... Sir S. Cripps said
tlml . . . responsibility would go back to the two Federations if
agreement could not be reached. . . . Mr. Jinnah expressed doubts
as to whether I his arrangement would work in practice. Matters' would
have to bo decided every day III regard lo defatted, I'Yoiii wluil hud

260

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

been said he had not been able to get anything which would enable
him to say that the Union idea was worth considering. . . . Mr. Jin-
nah said that no amount of equality provided on paper was going to
work. . . . Would there, for example, be equality of each community
in the Services?

The Secretary of State said that Mr. Jinnah seemed to be turning to
the other alternative and asked Mr. Jinnah’s views on that. Mr. Jin¬
nah said that once the principle of Pakistan was conceded the ques¬
tion of the territory of Pakistan could be discussed. His claim was
for the six Provinces but he was willing to discuss the area. ... He
could not possibly accept that Calcutta should go out merely for the
sake of 5 or 6 lakhs of Hindus (largely Depressed Classes who would
prefer Pakistan) most of whom were imported labour. . . . The
Secretary of State said he wished to emphasise that the Delegation
did not consider that either of these two alternatives would be readily
acceptable to the Congress. . . . Mr. Jinnah said that he thought
with respect that the Congress stood to lose nothing. The unity of
India was a myth. 47

Jinnah’s legal adroitness proved more than Pethick-Lawrence, Cripps, or
Alexander could outwit, though all three wise British brains tried their
best.

Finally “the Secretary of State suggested that Mr. Jinnah should think
the matter over further. . . . After the Delegation’s return from Kashmir
perhaps Mr. Jinnah would let them know his position.” 48 Round One was
over. Jinnah knocked nobody down but surely won on points before the
bell sounded, giving him an interlude of much-needed rest.

Simla Revisited
( 1946 )

Masterful leader that he was, Jinnah marshaled his forces, tightening his
grip on the sword arm of his embryonic nation throughout the negotiations
with the cabinet mission. All newly elected Muslim League legislators from
provincial and central assemblies mustered in Delhi during early April
1946 to take and sign solemn pledges “in the name of Allah, the Beneficent,
the Merciful,” declaring their conviction that “the safety and security, and
the salvation and destiny of the Muslim Nation, inhabiting the Subconti¬
nent of India lies only in the achievement of Pakistan . . . and, believing
as I do in the rightness and the justice of my cause, I pledge myself to
undergo any danger, trial or sacrifice which may be demanded of me. 1
That pledge was unanimously affirmed by every elected representative of
the Muslim League “amidst loud cheers.” Armed with those promissory
notes on the life of every Muslim League leader in British India, Quaid-i-
A/um reminded his followers, “We have made a solemn declaration in this
august and historic Convention that while we hope for the best, we are
prepared for the worst.” 2

"What next?” asked Bengal’s Suhrawardy, moving the pledge resolution
(hut night. “We want to live in peace. We do not intend to start a civil war,
hnl we want a land where we can live in peace. ... I have long pondered
whether the Muslims are prepared to fight. Let me honestly declare that
every Muslim of Bengal is ready and prepared to lay down his life”; and
lurning to Quaid-i-A/.am he demanded: “I call upon you to test us.” 3 His
Iuitiitic depleted province would soon be saturated with blood. Khaliquzza-
iimii spoke in Urdu, affirming that: “Muslims will now decide their own
doHtliiy," and lie turned toward his great leader, silting on the platform in

262

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

263

the Anglo-Arabic Hall wearing a cream-colored sherwani, white shalwar,
and regal fur cap, vowing, “We will lay down our lives for Pakistan.”

The Punjab’s nawab of Mamdot raised his mighty right arm as he
spoke: “We are asked how we will defend Pakistan. I would say that if
stalwart soldiers of the Punjab could defend Britain against Nazi aggres¬
sion, they can also defend their own hearths and homes.” From the North-
West Frontier rose Pathan leader Khan Abdul Qayyum Khan “amidst
thunderous applause” to shout: “Thank God, we have one flag, one leader,
one platform and one ideal, Pakistan, to fight for. We are only waiting for
the final order to do whatever is considered necessary for the attainment of
Pakistan. Young Sardar Shaukat Hayat Khan was there to assure his
Quaid-i-Azam: “I speak for the Punjabi soldier, and I say that three-quarter
million demobilized soldiers in the Punjab are pledged to achieve Paki¬
stan. . . . You, sir, are holding us back, and we beg of you to give the word
ol command. Let us prove to the doubting how we can and how we mean
lo defend our Pakistan.” More restrained perhaps because he was older,
hii Firoz Khan Noon said: Neither the Hindus nor the British know yet
how far we are prepared to go in order to achieve Pakistan. We are on the
threshold of a great tragedy.” 4

“What are we fighting for? What are we aiming at?” Jinnah asked his
band of loyal followers immediately after they pledged him their all, as
though suddenly awakening from a dream to find himself at the edge of a
dreadful precipice.

We Muslims have got everything-brains, intelligence, capacity and
courage-virtues that nations must possess. But two things are lack¬
ing, and I want you to concentrate your attention on these. One thing
is that foreign domination from without and Hindu domination here,
particularly on our economic life, has caused a certain degeneration
of these virtues in us. We have lost the fullness of our noble char¬
acter. And what is character? The highest sense of honour and the
highest sense of integrity, conviction, incorruptibility, readiness at
any time to efface oneself for the collective good of the nation. And
yd, wc have done wonders. In five years our renaissance has been a

miracle of achievement. I begin to think it has been a dream. . . . 5

The mission returned from holiday in Srinagar on April 24 and asked
Cripps lo meet with Jinnah “informally” that evening to put to him their
lalesl plan. In Kashmir, Nehru and Gandhi had seen—and rejected—a three-
tier federation with provinces grouped to embrace the areas of Pakistan
demanded by the League, with the rest of British India going to Ilindu-
Nl,m ,,l “ l H"' princely stales being permitted to join either. The All India
Ihiion at the top of the federation would have controlled defence, foreign

SIMLA REVISITED (1946)

affairs, communications, and minority problems. The federated groups of
Hindustan and Pakistan were to have had their own flags and internal
security forces, and they would have been governed by central legislatures,
each electing equal numbers of representatives to an all-India union. Mi¬
nority problems and complaints would have been referred to a union court
representing the major communities. The Muslim League and Congress
would each have appointed drafting committees of their own to draw up
group constitutions. Congress leadership argued that such a plan actually
created Pakistan before anyone really tested the extent of the desire for
such a new state, even among Muslim representatives. The mission then
proposed electing a special commission from between 150 to 200 members
from all the newly elected representatives of every assembly, and putting
Pakistan to a vote in that body. If at least 20 percent of the commission
voted for Pakistan, then Muslim representatives of the provincial assem¬
blies of the Punjab, Sind, the North-West Frontier, Bengal, and Assam’s
Sylhet district could meet separately to vote on whether they wished to opt
out of an Indian Union. If at least 75 percent so voted they would remain
outside, and if Sind, the Punjab, and the North-West Frontier opted to
separate, then Baluchistan would also become part of that Pakistan, as
would Bengal and Sylhet. Non-Muslim majority districts within these prov¬
inces (as in East Punjab and West Bengal) could vote to remain in the
Indian Union, and if 75 percent of their representatives preferred it those
border provinces would be so partitioned.

Cripps found Jinnah “in an unreceptive mood.” 6 Jinnah did, however,
write down the points Cripps proposed and “he said that if Congress would
accept these proposals he would put them to his Working Committee.”
Knowing how cautious and quickly negative Jinnah could be when he dis¬
liked a proposal, Wavell believed that Jinnah’s mere willingness to present
a plan to his followers constituted “provisional, very provisional, accep¬
tance.” 7 Cripps was, therefore, authorized to see Nehru “informally” and to
"sound him” on the mission’s proposition, but Jawaharlal “turned down the
new proposal flat.” They were back to square one. That evening Cripps re¬
turned to Jinnah’s house and once again put to him the previous A and B
plans. Jinnah definitely rejected the “minimum sovereign Pakistan” em¬
bodied in plan B but was “prepared” to put plan A—the three-tiered fed¬
eral union—before his Working Committee if he could be assured that
Congress were “prepared to consider it.” 8 Cripps was so heartened by this
breakthrough that he took plan A to Azad the next day (though Nehru had
just agreed to become his successor as president of Congress the next
month), and (lie Mnulunu proposed a ,summit meeting of four Congress
and four League lenders to hummer out details of I hut “solution” Cripps

264 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

immediately went back to Jinnah with his “good news”; however, Jinnah
reminded him that what he had previously expressed was merely his “per¬
sonal opinion and not necessarily that of the League,” though he was will¬
ing to put that idea before his Working Committee. 9 The mission and
Wavell next drafted a letter to both Jinnah and Azad, proposing a summit
meeting—at Simla. New Delhi by then was sweltering, and everyone
agreed that chances of reaching closure were bound to be brighter in the
cool, rarefied, more rational atmosphere of a Himalayan hill station.

They reconvened at Simla on May 5, Wavell’s sixty-third birthday. Jin-
nnh chose Liaquat AH Khan, Sardar Abdur Rab Nishtar (1899-1958), and
Nuwab Mohammad Ismail Khan (1886-1958) to join him at the summit.
Azad selected Nehru, Patel, and Khan Abdul Ghaffar Khan as Congress’s
Irani, thus making it half Muslim and half Hindu. Jinnah refused to shake
hands with Azad, but otherwise the meeting got off to what Wavell viewed
as a “not too bad” start. The “first point of controversy” arose over union
finances; Congress wanted the center to have “powers of direct taxation
and to be self-supporting, while Jinnah advocated that it should be given a
lump sum and should have to go to the groups if it wanted more.” 10 They
moved on to controversy over a central legislature; Congress insisted on
having one, and Jinnah was negative, “his arguments . . . weaker and
more unconvincing,” as Wavell noted. Jinnah naturally wanted his legisla¬
ture al the second-tier “group” level of Pakistan, where Congress was op¬
posed to establishing any form of parliament. The underlying cause of
every argument and conflict at Simla remained the basic differences be¬
tween the League’s two-nation and Congress’s unitary-government philoso¬
phies of political life.

On the morning of May 6, Nehru and Jinnah crossed swords in what
was to evolve into the most deadly duel in Indian history.

Nehru said that . . . The Union of India, even if the list of subjects
was short, must be strong and organic. Provinces would not be pre¬
vented from co-operating among themselves over such subjects as
education and health; but they would not need a Group Executive.

He appealed to the League to come into the Constitution-making
body on the assurance that there would be no compulsion. Mr. Jin-
nnh replied that he could not accept that invitation. But if the Con¬
gress . . . would accept the Groups, the Muslim League would
accept the Union. . . . Nehru pointed out that Mr. Jinnah had ac¬
cepted no feature of the Union. The Union without a Legislature
would be futile and entirely unacceptable. 11

While Nehru and Jinnah fenced, "Patel’s face of cold angry disapproval
was a study" worthy of viceregal notice. 111 That afternoon Nehru said that

SIMLA REVISITED (1946) 265

“the question of grouping would arise after the constitution had been
formed,” insisting that “The first question to decide was the character of
the Union. After that Provinces might exercise their autonomy subject to
the Union constitution and Provincial representatives might bring up in the
All-India Constitution-making Body proposals for grouping.” 13

Cripps drafted a new “points of agreement” document, which he
planned to show Gandhi that evening, asking Wavell to tackle Jinnah. The
Mahatma was living in Simla’s “Chadwick” bungalow with Patel and Ghaf¬
far Khan, but he had not come to any mission meetings. Cripps had hoped
to win Gandhi’s support, but he struck out. Gandhi argued that “the pro¬
posed solution was worse than Pakistan,’ and he could not recommend it
to Congress.” He “seemed quite unmoved at the prospect of civil war,
Wavell noted, concluding, “I think he [Gandhi] had adopted Patel s thesis
that if we are firm the Muslims will not fight.” 14 The following evening
Wavell met with Jinnah for over an hour. “He was friendly but showed his
deep and utter mistrust of Congress and all their works. He is convinced of
their intention to split the Muslims and secure Hindu domination. ... He
said finally that we must do what we think just and fair, but not press him
too hard.” 15 Meanwhile Cripps returned to tackle Gandhi, and this time
said the Mahatma gave “full approval” to an outlined proposal of the three-
tier system. 16 Wavell, who did “not quite trust Cripps and wholly mis¬
trusted Gandhi,” was “not at all persuaded that C. had led G. up to the
ill tar, . . . more likely that G. has led C. down the garden path.” 17

On May 8, 1946, Pethick-Lawrence sent Jinnah and Azad identical
copies of nine suggested points of agreement that started with “There shall
lx- an All-India Union Government and Legislature dealing with Foreign
Affairs, Defence, Communications, fundamental rights and having the nec¬
essary powers to obtain for itself the finances it requires for these subjects,
lln'ii vested “All the remaining powers in the Provinces,” and as point three
slated: “Groups of Provinces may be formed and such groups may deter¬
mine the Provincial subjects which they desire to take in common.” 18
Ilnnah replied the same day from “Yarrows,” the bungalow he occupied
In Simla:

We are of the opinion that the new suggested points for agreement
are a fundamental departure from the original formula embodied in
your letter of 27th April, which was rejected by the Congress. . . .

In these circumstances, we think, no useful purpose will be served to
discuss this paper. 19

t.'imilhl also rejected the written points of "agreement” for various other
reiiNOiiN, but primarily bmuiNe 90 million Muslims would enjoy "parity

266 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

with over 200 million Hindus, an idea he termed “really worse than Paki¬
stan.” 20

They were back to the drawing board. Cripps went to see Azad; Wavell
visited Jinnah. Nehru was with Azad when Cripps saw them, finding them
both “reasonable” but “having great difficulty” with “colleagues,” presum¬
ably meaning Patel. Jinnah assured Wavell that he was “trying to be rea¬
sonable” but that he was “already the subject of criticism from his sup¬
porters for having yielded” on the “acceptance of a Union of any kind,”
which he termed “a great concession.” 21 Thus he insisted on Pakistan
groups meeting to define their own constitution. On the evening of May 9,
Nehru proposed that Congress and the League should meet with an “um¬
pire” to settle their points of difference. “Jinnah replied that he would be
pleased to meet any Hindu representatives of Congress. There was a preg¬
nant silence for a minute or so; and then Nehru suggested that he and
Jinnah should meet there and then and see whether they could decide on
an umpire.” 22 Everyone else left the conference room and strolled round
Simla’s lawns for forty minutes while Jinnah and Nehru locked horns in
single combat. They agreed only to adjourn for two days, however, and
resolved to meet again on Saturday, May 11 at 3:00 p.m.

Nehru wrote Jinnah that day on the eve of their meeting to report that
he and his colleagues had “given a good deal of thought to the choice of a
suitable umpire,” deciding that it would “probably be desirable to exclude
Englishmen, Hindus, Muslims and Sikhs.” 23 The field was thus quite lim¬
ited, but Congress drew up “a considerable list” that included Americans.
Jinnah replied that there were “several points” that remained to be dis¬
cussed “besides the fixing of any umpire” and informed Nehru that he
would be “glad” to meet with him any time after 10:00 a.m. on Saturday.
Nehru answered, “I was under the impression that the proposal to have
an umpire had been agreed to and our next business was to suggest
names.” 2 ' 1 Nonetheless, the two leaders met at Jinn ah’s residence at 10:30
A.M.

They fought on till after 6:00 p.m., when Pethick-Lawrence asked Jin-
nab to pul his precise conditions in writing for the next round to begin
Sunday evening. Jinnah sent a written statement of ten principles to Pethick
Lawrence the next day. There were to be separate constitution-making
bodies for the Pakistan and Hindustan groups, and “parity of representa¬
tion" between the groups in a union executive or legislature that might bo
established. No “eontroversiul” decision could be taken in the union except
by a ‘‘three-fourths” majority. Azad also submitted a written proposal «»l
suggested points of agreement on behalf of the Congress. II opened with
lliu formation of a single constituent assembly composed of elective repie-

267

SIMLA REVISITED (1946)

sentatives of all provinces and princely states. Pethick-Lawrence asked
both parties that evening if they thought, in view of positions they had
outlined, that they saw any “chance of reaching agreement?” No one could
honestly say yes. The secretary of state, therefore, felt he had no further
option but “to close” the conference. The cabinet mission and viceroy
planned to return to New Delhi on Tuesday.

That Monday, May 13, Wavell talked with Jinnah, who “looked tired
and ill.” 25 They talked about the new executive council that the viceroy
proposed to appoint. Wavell offered the League parity with Congress,
planning to include one Sikh, one Scheduled Caste member, and one
“other” minority. He urged Jinnah to accept “so favourable a proportion.”
Jinnah listened carefully but made “little comment.” He said that “whether
or not the Muslim League came into the Interim Government would de¬
pend on whether our Statement seemed likely to offer a solution of the
long-term issue. His fear was that the Congress plan was to get control of
the Central Government . . . and concentrate on getting control in the
Provinces.” Jinnah planned to remain in Simla to “rest and recuperate,”
Wavell reported, for at least three weeks.

The mission now felt obliged to propose its own settlement, a final
move in this stalemated game. It had listened to all the arguments, studied
all the documents, and questioned all the witnesses. Judgment could be
deferred no longer. The prime minister demanded an account of his mis¬
sion’s progress. The cable between Simla and London was kept hot and
humming through many a mid-May night. The Labour government seemed
almost ready to break apart, if not topple from power, over the Congress-
League struggle.

The cabinet mission broadcast its plan worldwide from New Delhi on
Thursday night, May 16, 1946. It was the last hope for a single Indian
union to emerge peacefully in the wake of the British raj. The statement
reviewed the “fully independent sovereign State of Pakistan” option, re¬
jecting it for various reasons, among which were that it “would not solve
the communal minority problem” but only raise more such problems, espe¬
cially for Sikhs, while irrevocably shattering the military, economic, and ad¬
ministrative unity so arduously developed throughout the last century and
more of British rule. The basic form of the constitution recommended was
a three-tier scheme with a minimal central Union at the top for only for¬
eign affairs, defence, and communications, and Provinces at the bottom,
which "should lie free to form Groups with executives and legislatures,”
with ouch Group being empowered to "determine the Provincial subjects
to bo taken In common,” Every ten yours any Province could by simple
majority vote "cull lm a reconsideration of (lie terms ol the constitution."

268 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

Details of the new constitution were to be worked out by an assembly
representing “as broad-based and accurate” a cross section of the popula¬
tion of India as possible. An elaborate method of assuring proper represen¬
tation of all communities was outlined with due consideration given to the
representation of states as well as provinces.

“To the leaders and people of India who now have the opportunity of
complete independence we would finally say this,” the missions statement
concluded.

We and our Government and countrymen hoped that it would be
possible for the Indian people themselves to agree upon the method
of framing the new constitution under which they will live. Despite
the labours which we have shared with the Indian Parties . . . this
has not been possible. We therefore now lay before you proposals
which . . . we trust will enable you to attain your independence in
the shortest time and with the least danger of internal disturbance
and conflict. These proposals may not, of course, completely satisfy
all parties, . . . We ask you to consider the alternative to acceptance
of these proposals ... a grave danger of violence, chaos, and even
civil war. The result and duration of such a disturbance cannot be
foreseen; but it is certain that it would be a terrible disaster for many
millions of men, women and children. . . . We appeal to all who
have the future good of India at heart to extend their vision beyond
I heir own community or interest to the interests of the whole four
hundred millions of the Indian people ... we look forward with
you to your ever increasing prosperity among the great nations of
I ho world, and to a future even more glorious than your past. 26

"Whatever the wrong done to India by British rule,” Gandhi commented
next day, “if the statement of the Mission was genuine, as he believed it
was, il was in discharge of an obligation they had declared the British
owed to India, namely, to get off India’s back. It contained the seed to con¬
vert this land of sorrow into one without sorrow and suffering.” 27 Pethick-
I .awrcnce and Cripps met with Gandhi the following morning for almost
three hours and reported to Wavell and Alexander that “At the outset Mr.
(hmdhi had seemed very content with the Government’s Statement, but
later lie had raised a point over which the Secretary of State felt some
difficulty . . . the question whether the procedure laid down for the Con¬
stituent Assembly was subject to alteration . . . whether it was open to
Congress representatives in the Constituent Assembly at the opening meet¬
ing to deal with procedure to raise the question whether the Assembly
should in fact divide into the three .sections, or whether il should decide
the Union's constitution firsI. Mr. Gandhi Indlenled that Ills support

SIMLA REVISITED (1946) 269

for the Statement would hinge on this point.” 28 The viceroy “was not very
clear” what was “at the back” of Gandhi’s mind in raising this question, but
argued forcefully, as Jinnah had, that he was “quite convinced” that the
primary objective of Congress was “to get power at the centre in the In¬
terim Government” so that it could then “at any time torpedo the Con¬
stitution-making Body by raising some crucial communal issue.”

Jinnah phoned from Srinagar on May 18 to report that “the reaction of
the Muslims against the Statement is very strong,” 29 and requested a month
before coming to any “decision” in order to have time to consult his Work¬
ing Committee. He was obviously fighting for time on two counts: his own
fragile health, taxed to its limit by the week’s talks; and his concern about
extremists in his own party, who were ready to launch jihad without fur¬
ther delay. “If the thing was rushed everything would be spoiled,” Jinnah
warned Wavell’s private secretary in their telephone conversation. Next
morning, the mission met with Liaquat Ali Khan and informed him it was
“impossible” for them to wait four weeks for Jinnah’s response. They
“pressed” him to urge Jinnah to return to Delhi “at once” or to “authorize
the Nawabzada [Liaquat Ali] to negotiate.” 30 Liaquat promised to try but
returned that afternoon “after a talk to Jinnah on the telephone, and said
that J. was calling the Working Committee ... for June 3 and 4 and the
Council for June 5, and begged not to be hurried as it would take time to
persuade his people to accept the proposals.” 31 The mission agreed, though
“rather reluctantly.” Jinnah planned to return to New Delhi on June 2, cut¬
ting his much needed vacation in the hills short by a week.

On May 19, the very day Liaquat Ali met with the mission, Gandhi
wrote Pethick-Lawrence from “Valmiki Mandir,” where he was staying in
New Delhi, to ask further clarification on the same sticking point he had
raised in earlier conversation with the secretary of state. “Do you regard a
recommendation as obligatory on any member of the contemplated Con¬
stituent Assembly?” inquired the Mahatma. “I know the legal position,”
Gandhi added. “My question has reference to the honourableness of op¬
position to grouping.” 32 Wavell read that letter as “the first of the Congress
efforts to wreck the Groups of Provinces.” 33

Cripps drafted a reply to Gandhi which explained: “We have stated
publicly that we cannot further negotiate these proposals which are—as far
uk we are concerned—in their final form.” 34 On May 20, Gandhi wrote again,
lIlls time at greater length.

I would put on record my conviction that Independence in fact would
lie a farce, il the British Troops arc in India even for peace and order
wllliln, or (lunger from without, , . . If the position about the Troops
persists, "Independence next mouth" Is elllier Insincere or n thought-

270

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

less cry. Acceptance of “Quit India” by the British is unconditional,
whether the Constituent Assembly succeeds or fails. ... A drastic
revision of the attitude is a necessity. ... As to the Interim Govern¬
ment, the more I think and observe, the more certain is my feeling
that a proper National Government responsible in fact, if not in law,
to the elected members of the Central Legislative Assembly should
precede the summons for the election of members of the Constituent
Assembly. . . . Without it, deep and universal corruption cannot
end, without it the psychological effect will not be produced. . . .
Every day’s delay in forming such a government is agony to the
famished millions of India. 35

First Lord Alexander was then convinced that “Gandhi had two objects—
to humiliate the British Government and to promote a policy of scuttle,
and secondly, to secure power without a constitution coming into being
and so to abandon the just claims of the Muslim League.” 36

The mission wired Attlee that the “situation has taken a turn for the
worse. . . . Congress propose to make an attack on the grouping proposal
and . . . they object to parity in the interim Executive. These two points
may be crucial in securing Muslim co-operation. ... We may therefore be
laced before long with threat of direct action by Congress if we do not
give way to their demands. We are giving consideration to what our policy
should be in that event.” 37 While the mission waited for the League to
meet, favorable reports of Muslim reactions came in from the Punjab, but
communal tensions and fever kept mounting, especially in large cities like
Karachi, where “the accidental dropping of an onion from a verandah by a
child nearly started a communal fracas,” reported the viceroy. “If the Mus¬
lim League were to reject the scheme . . . there would undoubtedly be
widespread communal riots.” 38

(Governor Sir Frederick Burrows of Bengal informed the mission on
May 2*1 that Bengal Hindus and Muslims were both much “relieved” that
I heir provinoe would not have to be partitioned if the plan were accepted,
lie warned, however, that rejection of the proposals by Jinnah would lead
In resignation of the League ministry and serve as a “signal for a Jehad."
There had already been “a serious situation in Chittagong started by stu¬
dents protesting against the rejection of Pakistan,” 30 controlled only be¬
cause of Muslim ministers going personally to that port to exert mollifying
influence.

Woodrow Wyatt spoke with Jinnah on Friday, May 24, and was in
formed by Quaid-I Assam that “What was required was a surgical opera¬
tion,” 4 " jinnah imiNt have known by then that his lungs were incurable
through simple inedloiilloii, lie offered to IniiiNtnll Nome advice In Ihe nils

271

SIMLA REVISITED ( 1946)

sion through Major Wyatt “as to how they should proceed,” if he thought
the mission “would not breach his confidence.” Wyatt reassured him on
the confidentiality point and reported his belief that what Jinnah wanted
to tell the mission was “that the British should remain as the binding forces
in the Indian Centre for some 15 years and deal with defence, and foreign
affairs for Pakistan and Hindustan consulting the Prime Ministers of each
State.” 41 This seemed a sensible solution from Jinnab’s point of view since
that would have created the least havoc and provided the most security and
stability to all Indians, especially the minorities. He dared not say it in
public, of course, and he did not trust Cripps to keep it from Nehru. Nor
was he certain that Pethick-Lawrence would not tip his hand to Gandhi,
yet with time running out and his energy level as low as it was, Jinnah
obviously felt almost desperate to convey this advice to the mission before
it was too late. He was “very anxious,” Wyatt noted, about the strong
“Muslim reaction” against the mission’s statement and thus most hesitant
to support it openly.

Wyatt cleverly concluded by “asking” Jinnah, in view of all that he had
said and sensed from his mood and manner, whether the League’s Working
Committee might not “possibly pass a resolution on the following lines.

The British had exceeded their brief in pronouncing on the merits of
Pakistan. They had no business to turn down what millions of people
wanted. Their analysis of Pakistan was outrageous. But the Muslims
had never expected the British to give them Pakistan. They had
never expected anyone to give them Pakistan. They knew that they
had to get it by their own strong right arm. The scheme outlined in
the Cabinet Mission’s Statement was impracticable and could not
work. But nevertheless in order to show that they would give it a
trial, although they knew that the machinery could not function, they
would accept the Statement and would not go out of their way to
sabotage the procedure —but they would accept the Statement as the
first step on the road to Pakistan.

"At this proposition he was delighted and said, ‘That’s it, you’ve got it,’ and
I urn completely convinced that that is what the Muslim League will do,”
Wyatt quite rightly, most presciently, predicted. 42

“Cripps is still in hospital though better, and Alexander is gone to
(ley Ion to inspect the Fleet,” Pethick-Lawrence wrote Attlee on May 26.

What is going to happen I don’t know. Gandhi is provokingly enig¬
matic unci blows hoi and cold, Azmi, Nehru and Jinnah I think all
want a Noltlrmonl. Hut already wo arc up against the second hurdle.

, , . Azmi mid Nehru wild the Congress generally arc willing to waive

272

273

JESTNAH OF PAKISTAN

any formal or legal change in the interim constitution, but they want
almost absolute power in reality and they want something to be able
to say about it to their people. Jinnah not only does not want the
Viceroy to relinquish his authority but he positively wants him to
retain it. The Viceroy is now I think convinced that he must go to
the limit of what is possible in satisfying the Congress. ... I have
not . . . abandoned hope that we may surmount this difficulty and
that both Congress and Muslim League may both express a grudging
acquiescence in our plan sufficient to enable us to go ahead with
summoning the Constituent Assembly ... on or before June 15th.
There are many people who would welcome our positively getting
on with the job. 43

Not least among them, Pethick-Lawrence himself.

Jinnah returned to New Delhi on June 2, and Wavell met with him the
following morning, finding him “in good heart. He said he could not give
mo names for the Interim Government until after he had seen his Council,
but 1 got the impression that the M. L. would probably come in. . . . lie
then went on to complain that the Muslims had not been given parity in
the Union Legislature, and stressed the very great concession he had made
in agreeing to a Union at all. . . . He then asked what we should do if the
M, L. came in and Congress refused. I had anticipated this query and had
consulted S. of S. ... I told him that the M. L. would certainly not suffer
by its readiness to work the Delegation scheme, and that the intention was
to go ahead . . . with any party who would work for it. He asked for
something more specific before he met his Working Committee at 6 p.m.
and I said I could do nothing more without consulting the Delegation,
lie . . . asked me to do so” 44 Wavell got the delegation’s “permission to
give jinnah a verbal assurance” that afternoon.

The League council met on June 5, and a “secret” British Intelligence
report noted that “Mr. jinnah said that he and other members of the Work¬
ing Committee were worried as to what would happen if the Muslim
Longue accepted the proposals and the Congress did not. The Viceroy re¬
plied that he would brook no refusal from Congress and that if they de¬
cided against acceptance he would hand over the interim government to
the Muslim League and give them all the support they required. This very
point was raised by some members in the Council meeting and Mr. Jinnah
took them into confidence and gave the same reply.” 48 Next day, Jinnah
spoke to his League council, informing them "It is now up to you as the
I’ai'Hnrnent of the Muslim Nation to take your decision. ... I repeat . . ,
that delay Is not good either for tlx* British Covernmonl or the Hindus. II
I hoy love freedom. II I hey love the Independence el India, If they waul to

SIMLA REVISITED ( 1946 )

be free, then the sooner they realise the better that the quickest way is to
agree to Pakistan.” 46 Jinnah then discussed both internal and external rela¬
tions, calling upon the Arabs to “see that not one more Jew landed in Pales¬
tine,” condemning the “Dutch imperialist hold on Indonesia,” and conclud¬
ing that in India most Hindus had “wind” in their heads. “There is no
remedy for a disease of the kind. Where a man is under a delusion, the
only place for him is a lunatic asylum. With this delusion, the Hindu is
arrogant, tyrannical and oppressive. But I think all this will sober down. If
it does not, then we shall have to do something to make it sober down.” 47

Before June 6 ended, the Muslim League council accepted the cabinet
mission’s plan “by a large majority,” Wavell noted. “Now the real battle
begins, and the great question is whether the Delegation will stand up to
Congress or not. Parity in the Interim Government may be the main
issue.” 48 Francis Turnbull lunched with Birla on June 6, reporting how
“alarmed” he was at Jinnah’s demand for Muslim League “parity” in an
interim government. Turnbull noted that he thought “Congress had come
very near to accepting parity” at Simla last year, but Birla insisted the
“situation” had been quite different then, requiring an emergency wartime
government, and now with elections having given Congress most of the
“general seats” there could be no question of parity for the League.

Jinnah spent an hour with the viceroy on June 7, informing Wavell that
he wanted the “Defence Portfolio for himself, and Foreign Affairs and
Planning for two of his followers,” 49 in an interim government composed of
five Muslim Leaguers, five Congress members, and only two others. It was
Jinnah’s first positive expression of personal interest in any interim govern¬
ment office and would, unfortunately, be his last. Jinnah asked the viceroy
“what would happen to his seat in the Assembly if he became a member of
the Interim Government” and “said he hoped there was no objection to his
remaining President of the Muslim League if he came into the Interim
(Jovernment.” 50

Nehru and Azad came to speak to the cabinet mission on June 10, argu¬
ing vigorously against parity. Wavell, Alexander and Pethick-Lawrence
I t ied to argue for greater tolerance and more cooperation with the League,
but Nehru insisted “it was frankly beyond the power of Congress to agree
l;o parity.” Then Gandhi re-entered the scene, letting it be known to Pethick-
I -awrence and Cripps through intermediaries that he was willing to see
Ilium. Alexander, like Wavell, was “completely mistrustful now of G. and
nil his ways."'" Cripps suggested that the viceroy tackle Jinnah and Nehru;
I’cl hick Lawrence- wanted to go off to see Gandhi, but the first sea lord
was dead against II." ,>8 With his health restored, Cripps came up with the
Idea ol "two vice presidents'' on the interim government eahlnel. our from

274

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

each party—Jinnah and Nehru—rotating office. “It was also possible under
this arrangement to have Nehru and Jinnah as Ministers without port¬
folio. ... It was agreed that the Viceroy should ask Nehru and Jinnah to
come to dinner that evening for a discussion on the position of the Interim
Government.” Everyone agreed it was essential to get these two leaders to
talk before their party positions froze incompatibly.

That night Cripps went personally to “persuade” Jinnah to meet with
Nehru and Wavell the following evening. He spent “several hours with
Jinnah ” 53 alone in his Delhi house, recording an “unsigned” “note” of their
“conversation” which has been incorrectly labeled a “Note by Major
Wyatt ,” 54 but was clearly the record of this most critical Jinnah-Cripps
summit conference that failed.

Mr. Jinnah said that he was not prepared to discuss parity with
anyone. He had had great opposition in his own party to accepting
the Mission’s proposal, he did not think that opposition was fully ap¬
preciated, nor what he had gone through. The only way he had been
able to persuade the Muslim League Council and Working Commit¬
tee to accept the Statement was by promising them that he would
not join the Interim Government unless the Muslim League had
parity with Congress. He was now pledged to that. He could not go
back on that. He was not his own master . 55

A singular confession for Jinnah, yet one he knew would appeal to Cripps.
“He was not prepared to meet Nehru or anyone else from Congress to talk
about the Interim Government until Congress had accepted the Mission’s
proposals. Then any such talk would have to be on the basis of parity. The
moment that Congress accepted, he would, of course, be willing to meet
Nehru and the Viceroy and put before them the names of his nominees
with the suggested portfolios .” 56 It was one of Jinnah’s key techniques for
sparing himself and saving energy to carry on important business, by al¬
ways insisting upon prior acceptance of a principle he deemed vital in any
negotiations before taking on the burden of a face to face meeting with
the “other side.” Especially when he considered the outcome doubtful, or
had no faith in his opposite number.

Jinnah next reassured Cripps of how sensible and reasonable he actually
was, having just taken so intransigent a stand on this key issue. He ex¬
pressed “shock” at having “got an impression” (from whom he does not
say) that it was being reported that the League’s nominees for the interim
government would be "any old people from the Muslim League Working
Committee.” Jinnah insisted "lie wanted the best men. This was an impor¬
tant matter. . . . He wns not going to put in us Ills nominees people who

SIMLA REVISITED (1946 ) 275

were popular or well known in the Muslim League if they could not do the
job. He had many able men in the civil service and he would put some of
those in even though no one had ever heard of them. The problem was to
get the right man for the right job. He was quite prepared to talk over the
portfolios with Nehru and make adjustments with him so that they could
get a workable team which was what was needed .” 57 Could anything be
more reasonable? Now that barrister Jinnah re-established his image of
sensible moderation in management matters, he could return to his parity
demand, but this time he put the onus of having abandoned “parity” on
Congress.

“He seemed slightly interested in an idea that had been put to him of
an inner cabinet of six with parity for Congress and the Muslim League.

(Something based on these lines may be the way out. )” 58 The parenthetic
was Cripps’s note to himself and his Mission colleagues, for he was always
coming up with such brilliant solutions to what everyone else found “in¬
soluble” problems. Cripps concluded this important “note” with an indica¬
tion of how much he personally had been swayed and moved by Jinnah’s
unique advocacy, and how open his own mind remained to every shred of
information: “I have now heard . . . from different sources (apart from
Mr. Jinnah), that Jinnah did promise the Muslim League Council and
Working Committee that he would not go into an Interim Government
without parity. I believe that he really did have to deal with a great deal
of resentment in his party .” 59 That closing comment sounds positively
sympathetic to Jinnah’s position and the pressures under which he was
fighting. He had weaned Cripps a long way from Nehru’s side without
really budging one inch from the position to which he clung so tenaciously.

Just when Jinnah scored in this tete-k-tete with the mission’s most bril¬
liant, pro-Congress member, Nehru, Patel, and Gandhi were leaving nega¬
tive personal impressions on the cabinet mission as well as the viceroy, who
viewed them alternately as petulant or pettifogging hagglers. Nehru brought
ii list of fifteen names for the interim council, but only four were from the
I .oague; five were Congress Hindus, one non-Congress Hindu, one Con¬
i', icss Scheduled Caste, and one Congress woman. Wavell rightly informed
Nehru that “this list would be quite unacceptable to Mr. Jinnah.” Next
uioming Jinnah arrived and gave the viceroy “some names for the Govern¬
ment if the League came in.” Nehru returned that afternoon and “seemed
' I < * I iressed, worked himself up to one outburst about Jinnah’s refusal to

.I Azacl and described Jinnah as a wrecker .” 60 Later that evening Patel

irhmiccl and "talked volubly without listening to any argument and sung
n eon tin nous hymn of halo against Jinnah and the Longue. He said . . .
that no Covemment formed by the Viceroy would he ucooptuble." That

276

JINN AH OF PAKISTAN

day, Gandhi wrote to Wavell, urging him to “Dare to do the right” in
choosing between Congress’s list of nominees and the League’s. “You must
make your choice of one horse or the other,” the Mahatma advised the field
marshal. “So far as I can see you will never succeed in riding two at the
same time. Choose the names submitted either by Congress or the League.
I'’or Cod’s sake do not make an incompatible mixture and in trying to do so
produce a fearful explosion. Anyway fix your time-limit and tell us all to
leave when that limit is over. I hope I have made my meaning clear.” 61
Wavell, however, was thoroughly disenchanted with Gandhi, whom he
judged to be "an exceedingly shrewd, obstinate, domineering, double-
tongued, single-minded politician; and there is little true saintliness in
him.” 62

In London, the British cabinet considered the “military implications”
<>l a proposed breakdown in Indian negotiations. It rejected a proposal,
should Congress refuse to cooperate with the mission’s plan, to grant inde¬
pendence (“scuttle”) to Central and Southern India and fall back to the
Norlh-West and North-East, seeking to hold “Pakistan.” The prime minister
authorized working out plans for the “evacuation” of Europeans but stressed
llie importance of “safeguarding against leakage” the fact that any such
plans were underway. The cabinet resolved “in principle” that “no further
women and children should be embarked for India.”

The British cabinet considered the foreign policy implications of “any
action by .His Majesty’s Government which appears to suggest that we are
abandoning our position in India” and was warned by Foreign Minister
Krncsl Bevin that

As regards American public opinion, such sympathy as we might
hope to get—and it would not be much—from liberal internationalist
circles for a policy of abandonment would be infinitely outweighed
to our disadvantage by the confirmation that far wider circles would
see in such a policy of their assumption that we no longer had the
moans or resolution to face our responsibilities. ... To sum up . . .
any appearance of abandonment of our position in India without a
solution would weaken our world position. 63

In New Delhi, Britain’s cabinet mission continued laboring to put a new
Interim government in place before India’s summer heat melted the hearts
mid minds of those three exhausted wise men. On June 1.6, Wavell noted
"the Delegations final (?) attempt to induce the children to play together
Is liumclied. . , , All tills huckstering and bargaining by Congress has
shown their complete Inability to take a broad or slalesmanllke view, jin-
aab has shown up well in comparison." Il ' 1 Azmi kept sending hint long, de

SIMLA REVISITED (1946) 277

tailed, demanding letters. Gandhi kept meeting with Pethick-Lawrence,
Nehru with Cripps, Wavell with Jinnah. They were arguing over one or
two names on an interim cabinet that never met—designed to keep a land
of 400 million from drowning in an ocean of blood and poverty. Was it
that all of them understood how hopeless a task they would face once they
agreed to take “power?” Wavell was bored sick of them all by now, includ¬
ing Jinnah, with whom he reported a “not very pleasant” interview on June
18, commenting “The more I see of these Indian politicians, the more I
despair of India. ... He said that the Working Committee were meeting
tonight ... but indicated that he thought we were being very weak with
Congress and giving way to them on every point, and that he himself was
being 'ground down’ beyond endurance. . . . Jinnah gave me the impres¬
sion of being rather depressed and tired, and of feeling that he had been
rather let down.” 65

Cripps was prepared to ask Jinnah “for a list of names’ for an entire
interim government if Congress opted to reject the mission’s plan. Wavell,
however, “would be very chary of giving Jinnah responsibility for forming
the whole Government. He would prefer to ask Jinnah to come in on the
basis that he would get the same share as now proposed. The responsibility
for this Interim Government would be the Viceroy’s and Jinnah would not
be Prime Minister,” argued the offended viceroy, who thus proved his abil¬
ity to “play” the game as well as any of the other “children. 66 Cripps re¬
sponded that “it seemed to him reasonable that Jinnah should have the op¬
portunity of expressing his views as to . . . the composition of the Govern¬
ment. If Jinnah declined to serve on reasonable terms, his view was that we
should then ask Congress to form a Government. The Viceroy said he could
not agree. He would rather have a Government of officials.” The first lord
of admiralty agreed with Wavell. Pethick-Lawrence ‘sympathised some¬
what with Sir S. Cripps” but did not want to ride roughshod over the vice¬
roy, and he decided if it came to choosing Jinnah he would have to consult
Attlee and his colleagues back home.

The mission met with Nehru, Azad, Patel, and Rajendra Prasad on Sun¬
day, June 23. Pethick-Lawrence explained that he and his colleagues “quite
appreciated the importance which Congress attached to the recognition of
their national character, but they did hope that in this particular instance
(Congress would see their way not to make a demand for the inclusion of
a Muslim among the Congress representatives in the Interim Government,
though without in any way creating a precedent or approving a prin¬
ciple."' 17 Nehru protested llml “the Delegation appeared to start with the
presumption llml progress could only be made with the co-operation of the
Muslim League. The Congress disagreed " Cripps tried to argue llml Con

278

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

279

gross Muslims being included in provincial governments, sufficed to dem¬
onstrate the “national character of Congress,” but Nehru would not budge,
nor would Patel or Azad. Pethick-Lawrence quite cogently remarked that

The greatest obstacle to India going forward towards independence
was the inability to get started. . . . Suppose that the Congress rep¬
resentatives persuaded the Delegation to agree to the inclusion of a
Congress Muslim. If that occurred he did not believe that Mr. Jin-
nah would accept it, and there would be no Coalition Government.

I le believed it was really in the best interests of Congress and of In¬
dia to act courageously and to begin by accepting the conditions
under which a coalition would be possible. A solution of the com¬
munal problem in India had to be found, and for the parties to work
together on practical problems provided the best hope. 68

The wisdom of Pethick-Lawi'ence’s final plea made no positive impact how¬
ever. Nehru replied that the leaders of Congress had been seeking a solu-
lion of the communal problem “for thirty years” but had always been
"undermined” by the League’s refusal to recognize any “Muslims who sup¬
ported the national ideal, and the Congress could not desert those Muslims
who had done so.” Patel added that to capitulate on this point “would force
nil the Muslims out of the Congress.” But on June 25, 1946, the Congress
Working Committee finally resolved to “accept” the mission’s plan of the
Iasi month, while expressing grave reservations about “The limitation of the
Central authority, as contained in the proposals, as well as the system of
grouping of Provinces.” 69

We arc now precluded from trying to form an Interim Government
wit'll the participation of the Muslim League, but without that of the Con¬
gress, WaveII noted in his “top secret” memo to the mission after receiving
die Congress response, “and Congress will claim that in any fresh attempt
nil the original bases and the assurances given to Mr. Jinnah have disap¬
peared. We have in fact been outmanoeuvred by the Congress and this
nl>1 lily of Congress to twist words and phrases and to take advantage of
any slip in wording is what Mr. Jinnah has all along feared, and has been
die reason for his difficult attitude. The success of the Congress, which ho
will loci has been mainly due to their continuous contacts with the Mis-
mIo'i • • • will increase his distrust, both of the Congress and the Mission,
imd of the Viceroy. . . . Tempers are frayed; the Muslim League feel that
Ihey Imvo been betrayed; and the Congress fool that they have gained an
advantage of which they will not he slow to make capital." 711 Waved would
sunn he left to form a caretaker government of officials, an alternative fur

SIMLA REVISITED (1946)
more congenial to his nature and experience than trying to preside over a
coalition cabinet would have been.

That evening the Mission and Wavell met with Jinnah to show him the
Congress resolution. That final meeting lasted almost three hours, till after
8:00 p.m. Wavell informed Jinnah that he would appoint a caretaker gov¬
ernment” for a “short interval” and they could *' go ahead with the Con¬
stituent Assembly and constitution-making” during that interlude since the
cabinet mission was returning to England. Jinnah was thoroughly shocked
by what he heard, asking “Did he understand that the Delegation did not
now wish to form an Interim Government? He had understood that if one
party rejected the offer of June 16th we should go ahead with the other.

. . . The Muslim League had accepted. ... Mr. Jinnah said he disliked
the suggestion for a postponement of the question of the Interim Govern¬
ment. He thought it was bad for the prestige of the Delegation and also
for his own prestige. It would destroy both.” 71 How ego shattering that
moment of “truth” must have been for him, how frustrating after all these
years, all these decades. Once more to be told “Not yet! Still not quite
ready for you, Sir. Next month, perhaps, or next year.” Would he live an¬
other year? It was “a deplorable” interview, Wavell reported, noting that
“by the time we got down to real business . . . J. was in a thoroughly
evil mood; accused us of bad faith and of giving way to Congress, and
considered that he should be given the opportunity of entering the Gov¬
ernment.” 72

Next day, Alexander went round to see Jinnah to tell him how anxious
he was not to “part” with bad feelings between them. But Jinnah’s feeling
of friendship, empathy, and trust for the British and all they had always
stood for since his first trip to London, would never quite be put back to¬
gether again—after that fatal fall.

Bombay to London

0946 )

"If there is not sufficient power, create that power,” Jinnah charged his
League council in Bombay in late July. “All efforts of the Muslim League
at fairplay, justice, even supplication and prayers have had no response of
any kind from the Congress. The Cabinet Mission have played into the
hands of the Congress. It has played a game of its own.” 1 In 1920 he had
lost faith in Congress. Then, more than a quarter-century later, he aban¬
doned hope and trust in the British, whose postwar problems and pressures
obliged them to “play” into Congress’s hand.

“Throughout these negotiations the Cabinet Mission and the Viceroy
were under terror and threats of the Congress,” Jinnah told his 450 fol¬
lowers, who were packed into a sweltering hall crowded with members of
llie press, both foreign and domestic, as well as delegates from every
province.

The Cabinet Delegation and the Viceroy . . . have gone back on
their plighted word and abandoned what was announced as their
fin ill proposals. . . . Congress really never accepted the long-term
plan. Its conditional acceptance was communicated to the Cabinet
Mission by the Congress President on June 25. . . . The Cabinet
Mission like a drowning man ready to catch hold of a straw treated
this conditional acceptance . . . as genuine. . . . Pandit Jawaharlal
Nehru as the elected President ... at a Press conference in Bombay
on July 10, made the policy and attitude of the Congress towards the
long-term proposal clear . . . that the Congress was committed to
nothing. . . . What is the use of imagining things and dreaming.'

|iminh enlivened his council lo re-examine "the whole position' in the
light ol broken Ili'IUsh "pledges" anil o! Congress's dellnnee <>l the League

281

BOMBAY TO LONDON (1946)

and rejection of the mission’s plan. “I can tell you this without fear of con¬
tradiction that of the three parties, throughout the negotiation the Muslim
League behaved as an honourable organization,” Jinnah assured his back¬
ers. “We worked with clean hands. The Muslim League is the only party
that has emerged from these negotiations with honour and clean hands. 3
Clean hands had always been a prime virtue to him, and they seemed then
to symbolize a political surgeon’s final preparation before entering the op¬
erating room where the hopelessly sick patient lay waiting to be cut. Noth¬
ing short of radical surgery would suffice, when even the “great” British
mission “went back on its words . . . cowed down and paralysed before
a Congress which had neither “decency” nor any sense of honour and
courage.”

“All these facts prove clearly beyond a shadow of doubt, Quaid-i-Azam
continued, “that the only solution of India’s problem is Pakistan. So long
as the Congress and Mr. Gandhi maintain that they represent the whole
of India ... so long as they deny true facts and the absolute truth that
the Muslim League is the only authoritative organization of the Muslims,
and so long as they continue in this vicious circle, there can and will be no
compromise or freedom. . . . Mr. Gandhi now speaks as a universal ad¬
viser. He says that the Congress ... is the trustee for the people of In¬
dia. . . . We have enough experience of one trustee that has been here for
150 years. We do not want the Congress to become our trustee. We have
now grown up. The only trustee of the Muslims is the Muslim nation.

Jinnah now accused Cripps of trying to “wriggle out of simple defini¬
tions in his Commons talk about the mission, resorting “to jugglery of words
and misleading the house,” and adding in what for Jinnah was perhaps the
deepest cut of all, “I am sorry to say that Sir Stafford Cripps debased his
legal talents.” To Pethick-Lawrence, who had informed London’s Plouse of
Lords “that he [Jinnah] could not have a monopoly of Muslim Nomina¬
tion,” Jinnah shouted, “I am not a trader. I am not asking for concessions
for oil, nor am I higgling and haggling like a banya. Ilis fierce rejection
of the business of his fathers and their commercial community underscores
how betrayed he felt in the aftermath of the negotiations that ended the
mission. To orthodox fellow Muslims, for whom commerce, trade, and in¬
terest were almost as execrable as pork and wine, he had proudly professed
himself as antipathetic to “higgling banyas” as the strictest Sunni mullah.
The bridge ol faith in the British common law that had hitherto linked him
lo Cripps, Pethick-Lawrence, Ramsay MacDonald, Morley, and Gladstone
was shut tercel,, swept away by torrents of sell-interest that gushed from
Simla’s Himalayan heights, dissolving like Ills trust in nil of them in a Hood
of liuNtrnted despair.

282

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

283

Next day the Muslim League council met to consider over a dozen
resolutions that had been tabled by members, trying to decide “what steps”
the League should take in view “of the Cabinet Mission having gone back
on their word,” as Jinnah told them. Liaquat Ali read each of the resolu¬
tions aloud, and then general discussion began, lasting two whole days.
"The best for us is frankly to admit that we made a mistake in accepting a
Union of some sort proposed in the Scheme and go back to our Pakistan
ideal,” urged Sir Firoz Khan Noon. “The path of wisdom lies in the total
rejection of the constitutional proposals ... let there be one guiding bea¬
con before us—a fully sovereign, separate State of Pakistan.” 5 Maulana
Masrat Mohani rose to shout amidst wild cheering, “If the Quaid-i-Azam
will only give his word, the Muslims of India will rise in revolt at a mo¬
ment’s notice.” Other maulanas, khans, and mullahs reiterated those chants,
and Itaja Ghazanfar Ali promised that “If Mr. Jinnah gave the call, Mus¬
lims from all walks of life would come forward to carry on the struggle for
llie attainment of Pakistan.”

On July 29, 1946, Jinnah and his Working Committee presented two
resolutions hammered out after hearing the council’s opinions. The first
withdrew League acceptance of the cabinet mission’s May proposals; the
second charted the League’s course of future direct action.

Whereas Muslim India has exhausted, without success, all efforts to
find a peaceful solution of the Indian problem by compromise and
constitutional means; and whereas the Congress is bent upon setting
up Caste-IIindu Raj in India with the connivance of the British; and
whereas recent events have shown that power politics and not justice
and fair play are the deciding factors in Indian affairs; and whereas
it has become abundantly clear that the Muslims of India would not
rest contented with anything less than the immediate establishment
of an Independent and fully sovereign State of Pakistan . . . the
time has come for the Muslim nation to resort to Direct Action to
achieve Pakistan to assert their just rights, to vindicate their honour
and to get rid of the present British slavery and the contemplated
future Caste-IIindu domination. 6

After both resolutions were enthusiastically adopted, Jinnah concluded:
"We have taken a most historic decision. Never before in the whole life-
history of the Muslim League did we do anything except by constitutional
methods and constitutional talks. We are to-day forced into this position by
a move in which both the Congress and Britain have participated. We
have been at tucked on two fronts. . , . To-day we have said good-bye to
constitutions and constitutional methods. Throughout tin palulul negotlu
lions, the two pintles with whom we bargained held ;i pistol al us, one wllh

BOMBAY TO LONDON ( 1946 )

power and machine-guns behind it, and the other with non-co-operation
and the threat to launch mass civil disobedience. This situation must be
met. We also have a pistol.” 7

Pethick-Lawrence urged Wavell to meet Jinnah as soon as possible and
to “press him even now” to permit members of the Muslim League to join
an interim coalition government with Congress. Wavell underestimated
Jinnah’s anger and the imminence of violent League action. He wired
home on August 1 that there was “no indication of any immediate attempt
at a mass movement” and asked Pethick-Lawrence to inform the cabinet
that “it would not be advisable to send for Jinnah immediately. ... If I
send for Jinnah at once it will be regarded as a panicky reaction to a threat
and will put up Jinnah’s stock. ... I should propose to leave Jinnah
alone.” 8 So the game continued, move by Machiavellian move.

After the League council had met, a correspondent for the Daily Tele¬
graph interviewed Jinnah to ask what he meant by “direct action,” and
Jinnah at first replied that “there would be a mass illegal movement”; but
when the correspondent showed him the text of his article before cabling
it home, Jinnah changed “illegal” to “unconstitutional.” 9 Jinnah’s secretary
reported that the Working Committee set the date for a “univeral Muslim
hartal” for Friday, August 16, 1946. The viceroy’s deputy private secretary
felt a strike had “possibilities of working up mass hysteria,” yet Wavell re¬
mained unperturbed, mistakenly believing that “J. has no real idea what
to do.” 10

On August 6, 1946, with Pethick-Lawrence’s approval, Wavell wrote
Nehru, as president of the Congress, inviting him “to submit to me pro¬
posals for the formation of an Interim Government. ... It will be for you
to consider whether you should first discuss them with Mr. Jinnah. ... I
am sure you agree with me that a Coalition government can best direct ef¬
fectively the destinies of India at this critical time. Time is short.” 11 Nehru
replied from Gandhi’s ashram at Wardha on August 10, accepting the “re¬
sponsibility” offered. On August 13, Nehru wrote Jinnah from Wardha to
"seek your cooperation in the formation of a coalition provisional Govern¬
ment.” 12 Jinnah’s response was acute surprise.

I know nothing as to what has transpired between the Viceroy and
you, nor have I any idea what agreement has been arrived at be¬
tween you two. ... If this means the Viceroy has commissioned
you to form an Executive Council . . . and has already agreed to
accept and act upon your advice ... it is not possible for me to ac¬
cept .such a position. . . . However, If you cure to meet mo, on be¬
half oi Congress, to settle the Hindu Muslim question und resolve
the serious deiullook, I Khali be glad lo Nee you today al II p.m, 111

284 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

That was August 15, 1946, precisely one year before the birth of India and
Pakistan. Nehru responded the same afternoon from Bombay, “I am pre¬
pared to come to your place at 6 p.m.”

After their meeting, Nehru reported to Wavell that he had “offered Jin¬
nah assurances” that no “major communal issue” would be acted upon in
the constituent assembly except by a majority of both parties, that any dis¬
puted points would be referred to the federal court for decision, and that
"while Congress did not like the idea of grouping and preferred autono¬
mous provinces under the Centre they would not oppose grouping by prov¬
inces if the provinces wished it.” 14 Nehru offered Jinnah five Muslim League
scats on a cabinet of fourteen but “did not see” how the League could pos¬
sibly object to a nationalist Muslim being included among the Congress
party quota—which would also be five. Jinnah not only objected but there¬
upon refused to participate in the interim government, and his “only pro¬
posal,” as Nehru reported it, was to defer “all action . . . for six months.”
Jiiwnharlal refused to wait any longer, however, leaving Jinnah’s Malabar
Mill estate as the sun went down on the eve of India’s bloodiest year of
civil war.

"There was a curious stillness in the air” over Calcutta, Major L. A. Liv¬
ermore reported from his perch atop Fort William that hot, sticky, mon¬
soon morning of Friday, August 16, 1946, as dawn broke over Kipling’s
(lily of Dreadful Night. Muslim workers from the Howrah jute mills had
begun pouring into the city, headed toward Ochterlony’s “needle” Monu¬
ment for the mammoth meeting to “celebrate” Direct Action Day. Chief
minister Suhrawardy and other leaders of Bengal’s Muslim League were
scheduled to address that meeting. Reports that “Hindus had erected bar¬
ricades at the Tala and Belgachia bridges to prevent Muslims from enter¬
ing the city” reached British headquarters at the fortress by 7:30 A.M., but
I lie brigadier in command of Calcutta, J. P. C. Mackinlay, had “ordered"
nil of his troops to be “confined to barracks” that day. India’s largest, most
crowded, most communally volatile city was left virtually naked. Suhra¬
wardy had given the government servants an extraordinary three-day week¬
end off.

"Communal trouble started as early as 7 a.m. in Maniktolla area in
northeast Calcutta and has continued and spread throughout the day,"
(Governor burrows wired Wavell that night.

Situation up to 6 p.m. is that there have been numerous and wide¬
spread communal clashes . . . accompanied by some looting of
shops, arson. Weapons employed appear to have been chiefly brick
bats Iml in n number ol eases shot guns have born used by members
ol |xit 1 1 communities mid some eases ol stabbing have been reported.

BOMBAY TO LONDON (1946) 285

... A marked feeling of panic, especially among Hindu traders in
north Calcutta, has been feature of situation since early in the day
and has given rise to many wild reports far exceeding actualities.

. . . Disturbances so far have been markedly communal and not, re¬
peat not, in any way anti-British. 15

Lieutenant-general Sir Francis Tuker, in charge of India’s eastern com¬
mand, received intelligence reports that Suhrawardy told “an immense
Muslim crowd” gathered round Ochterlony’s Monument that afternoon that

the Cabinet Mission was a bluff, and that he would see how the
British could make Mr. Nehru rule Bengal. Direct Action Day would
prove to be the first step towards the Muslim struggle for emancipa¬
tion. He advised them to return home early and said . . . that he
had made all arrangements with the police and military not to inter¬
fere with them. Our intelligence patrols noticed that the crowd in¬
cluded a large number of Muslim goondas [hoodlums], and that . . .
their ranks . . . swelled as soon as the meeting ended. They made
for the shopping centres of the town where they at once set to work
to loot and burn Hindu shops and houses. ... At 4.15 p.m. Fortress
H.Q. sent out the codeword “Red” to indicate that there were inci¬
dents all over Calcutta. 16

Curfew was proclaimed in the “riot-affected districts” at 6:00 p.m.; but
by 8:00 p.m., when the area commander called in the 7th Worcesters and
the Green Howards from their barracks in the north, they found College
Street Market “ablaze” and the “few unburnt houses and shops completely
sacked,” in Amherst Street the litter of mass looting, in Upper Circular
Road the rubble left by “fire-bugs,” on Harrison Road, the cries of wounded
and terrorized residents, and many bodies of “newly dead.” “Calcutta was
the battlefield”; Major Livermore recalled, “the battle was mob rule versus
civilisation and decency; the casualties of that stricken field were for the
most part the poor, the low-caste illiterates and those too weak to defend
their property from the looter, the vulture of the mob.” 17

“February’s killings had shocked us all but this was different:” General
Taker noted, “it was unbridled savagery with homicidal maniacs let loose
to kill and kill and to maim and burn. The underworld of Calcutta was
taking charge of the city. . . . The police were not controlling it. Daylight
showed not a sign of bus or taxi: rickshaws were battered and burnt: there
wore no moans for clerks to gel to their work ... all the more idle men
I.tiding about the town . . . rioters carrying loaded sticks and sharpened
Iron bars ... it was obvious I lint their mood was thoroughly danger¬
ous ... a man . . . bouton to death less than a hundred yards |(rnm| . . .

286

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

police . . . slow to get out of their vehicles and before they had come into
action three people were beaten down and lay dead on the road.” 18

On Monday, August 19, one of Major Livermore’s platoons removed 150
dead bodies from a single street crossing.

The stench in this area had become appalling and one citizen was so
grateful for the removal of at least part of the cause that he pressed
two bottles of champagne on the platoon responsible. ... At about
9 p.m. that night we received orders that the main streets at least
must be clear of bodies by the time the curfew lifted at 4 a.m. next
morning. Stench masks and gas capes would be sent to aid us in lift¬
ing the decomposing corpses; the location of Muslim burial grounds
and Hindu burning ghats would reach us as soon as possible. . . .

“1 low the hell do I tell a Muslim from a Hindu when they’ve all been
dead three days?” ... It took two more days and nights to finish
my own area—a total of five hundred and seven corpses in the one
Company sector, most of which came from a locality less than four
hundred yards square. . . . Already there was a threat of a cholera
epidemic. 19

By the night of August 19, rotting corpses posed so serious a threat to Cal¬
culi u that Bengal’s government offered to pay troops “five rupees for each
body collected.” One of those who pitched in was Major Dobney of the
(ailcutta Fortress Staff.

I Except for the occasional band of British troops the city was literally
a City of the Dead. ... All the streets were well lit, showing the
rolling piles of humanity and rubbish. Handcarts were piled high
with bodies and had been left abandoned at the curb-side. . . .
Once it was known that the mad Englishmen were collecting the
dead, more bodies appeared from the labyrinth of houses and hovels.

. . . All night the horrible task went on. 20

No one knows exactly how many people were slaughtered during the
Omit Calcutta Killing, but General Tuker estimated the toll ran “into
thousands.” Unofficial sources claimed that as many as 16,000 Bengalis
were murdered between August 16-20, 1948, and many times that number
lied over the bridge across the Hughli, which for days remained “a one¬
way current of men, women, children, and domestic animals headed to¬
ward the Howrah railroad station,” Margaret Bourke-White reported. Find
Ing the trains could not carry them all, the people settled down to wait' on
the concrete floor, dividing themselves automatically into Hindu and Mus¬
lim camps.” 21 It was only the beginning of partition.

On August 21, Wavell Informed IVI blek-Lawrence that "the present es
Minnie" of casualties was 8.000 dead and 17,000 Injured, Congress was

287

BOMBAY TO LONDON ( 1946 )

“convinced that all the trouble was deliberately engineered by the Muslim
League Ministry” but the viceroy had as yet seen no “satisfactory evidence
to that effect.” The latest estimate of casualties was that “appreciably more
Muslims than Hindus were killed.” 22

Jinnah was asked about the Great Calcutta Killing by a foreign news
agency later in August and replied:

If Congress regimes are going to suppress and persecute the Musal-
mans, it will be very difficult to control disturbances. ... In my
opinion, there is no alternative except the outright establishment of
Pakistan. . . . We guarantee to look after non-Muslim and Hindu
caste-minorities in Pakistan, which will be about 25 millions, and
protect and safeguard their interests in every way. . . . That is the
quickest way to India’s real freedom and to the welfare and happi¬
ness of all the peoples inhabiting this sub-continent. 23

On August 24, Wavell announced that Nehru and thirteen colleagues of
his choice would form a new interim government starting early in Septem¬
ber. “The recent terrible occurrences in Calcutta have been a sobering re¬
minder that a much greater measure of toleration is essential if India is to
survive the transition to freedom,” stated the viceroy. 24 A week later, Sir
Shafaat Ahmed Khan, one of three non-League Muslims named to Nehru’s
cabinet was stabbed seven times by two young Muslim League fanatics in
Simla.

Two days after Wavell’s broadcast, Jinnah announced that the viceroy
“has struck a severe blow to the Muslim League and Muslim India, but I
am sure that the Muslims of India will bear this with fortitude and courage
and learn lessons from our failure to secure our just and honourable posi¬
tion in the interim Government. ... I still maintain that the step he has
laken is most unwise and unstatesmanlike and is fraught with dangerous
and serious consequences and he has only added insult to injury by nomi¬
nal ing three Muslims who, he knows, do not command either the respect or
confidence of Muslim India.” 25

Wavell now appealed to Nehru and Gandhi to accept a new formula on
"grouping,” threatening not to convene the constituent assembly until they
did so. “Several times last evening,” Gandhi wrote the viceroy on Au¬
gust 28,

you repeated that you were a “plain man and a soldier” and that you
did not know the law. We are all plain men. ... It is our purpose,

I take it, to devise methods to prevent a repetition of the recent ter¬
rible happenings in (inleiitla. The question before ns is how best to
do ll, Your language lust evening was minatory. As representative of

288 JINN AH OF PAKISTAN

the King you cannot afford to be a military man only, nor to ignore
the law. ... Nor can the Congress be expected to bend itself and
adopt what it considers a wrong course because of the brutal exhibi¬
tion recently witnessed in Bengal. ... I say this neither as a Hindu
nor as a Muslim. I write only as an Indian. . . . You will please con¬
vey the whole of this letter to the British Cabinet. 26

"The strong reaction by Gandhi to my suggestion that Congress should
make their assurance about the Grouping categorical shows how well justi¬
fied Jinnah was to doubt their previous assurances on the subject,” Wavell
wrote Pethick-Lawrence as his cover letter enclosing Gandhi’s missive, add¬
ing. “It is to my mind convincing evidence that Congress always meant to
use their position in the Interim Government to break up the Muslim
I league and in the Constituent Assembly to destroy the Grouping scheme
which was the one effective safeguard for the Muslims.” 27 The secretary of
stale and the prime minister disagreed. “We fully appreciate gravity of the
danger of serious and widespread communal trouble,” Pethick-Lawrence
wired in response. “At the same time we must ask you not to take any
steps which are likely to result in a breach with the Congress.” 28 Wavell
was now tempted to resign and deeply regretted having abandoned Jinnah
in June, sensing that to work in harness with Nehru would prove more
gulling and less congenial.

“As long as Jinnah feels he can get his veto through the Viceroy, he will
not drop his intransigence,” G. D. Birla wrote Cripps the next day. “There
were signs of a feeling among the followers of the League that Jinnah was
lending them to the wilderness,” Birla noted. 29 And in his Id message from
Bombay on August 29, Jinnah appealed to his followers to “rally round the
Muslim League ... let us stand as one united nation under our flag and
<>n one platform and be determined and prepared to face the worst as a
completely united and great people with our motto: unity, faith and disci¬
pline. (Jod is with us and we are bound to succeed.” 30

A lew clays later on September 1, the eve of Congress taking over the
Inlrriin government, communal rioting rocked Bombay as Muslim houses
all along Sandhurst Road flew black flags of mourning. Curfew was im¬
posed, troops were called out, but in that one orgiastic night of violence 85
people were killed and 1.75 injured. Sporadic rioting in Bombay would
continue for over a week, and by September 10 more than 200 Hindus and
Muslims were dead as a result of communal violence. There was violence
in Karachi as well, lint Longue premier Shaikh Chulani Hussain broadcast
an "appeal for eulm and tolerance” which helped subdue Muslim passions
in that city, "The horrors ol Calcutta have begotten an attitude of sullen
resent limit on the one side and Imbecile panic on the other," Sind’s British

BOMBAY TO LONDON ( 1946 ) 289

chief secretary reported, noting that both communities were busy surrepti¬
tiously arming themselves. 31

The “door to Puma Swaraj has at last been opened,” Mahatma Gandhi
told his prayer meeting at Birla House in New Delhi, on September 2,
1946, as their “uncrowned king, Jawaharlal,” and his colleagues took oaths
of office in that flower-decked capital. Nehru was now virtually the prime
minister of India, and he placed Patel in charge of home affairs (police)
and Baldev Singh in charge of defence (or war). “A new Government
came into being in this ancient land,” Nehru broadcast from New Delhi a
few days later, “the Interim or Provisional Government we called it. . . .
India, this old and dear land of ours, is finding herself again through tra¬
vail and suffering. She is youthful again with the bright eyes of adventure,
and with faith in herself and her mission. 32

On September 8, Wavell “very urgently” transmitted his “breakdown
plan” for India to Pethick-Lawrence, estimating that “we could not govern
the whole of India for more than a year and a half.” 33 The viceroy’s plan
of withdrawal depended, as he put it, “on absolute firmness by H.M.G.,”
and Wavell requested permission to announce his plan publicly before Jan¬
uary 1. He wanted all Indians to know that the British were ready to pull
back their troops from south to north, disembarking from the subconti¬
nent through Karachi and Calcutta, with select elite officials flying out of
New Delhi. Approximately 100,000 European civilians and another 100,000
British troops would have to be evacuated from India.

Wavell dined with Jinnah’s old friend, Sarojini Naidu, on September
10, “and we had a long talk on politics and of the necessity of getting Jin-
nah and the M.L. in and the difficulties of Jinnah’s character. Mrs. N.
spoke of Jinnah rather as of Lucifer, a fallen angel, one who had once
promised to be a great leader of Indian freedom, but who had cast himself
out of the Congress heaven.” 34

The Daily Mail, whose correspondent in Bombay interviewed Jinnah,
reported his remarking:

The wound is too deep and the negotiations have led to too much
bitterness and rancour for us to prolong the present arguments. The
slate must be wiped clean and we must begin from the beginning
again. I shall never plead my case, but were the British Government
to invite me to London to start a new series of conferences on an
equal footing with other negotiators I should accept. ... If the
British insist on doing nothing more than support the present interim
Government with their bayonets all I can say is the Moslems civil en¬
dure It. II they wiiiiI to arrest me now I am ready to go to prison im-
i lied In tel y. 111 '

290

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

With riots in Bombay, Calcutta smouldering, and Nehru running the show
in New Delhi, the prospect of a visit to London must have looked quite
appealing to Jinnah through sultry monsoon haze atop Malabar Hill. Or if
not London, why not prison? Rather one extreme of glory or the other than
the limbo of obscure uncertainty, cut off from power, from the glitter
of the viceroy’s magic circle, where he had once held center stage, and from
the achievement of Pakistan, which hardly anyone mentioned nowadays
except with a shudder or shrug.

The viceroy met alone with Jinnah on September 16 for seventy-five
minutes, and earlier that same day with Nehru and Patel, both of whom
disliked his overtures to Jinnah. Congress leadership by now mistrusted
Wavell and advised Pethick-Lawrence, Cripps, and Attlee to remove him
from power, considering the viceroy too supportive of Muslim League de¬
mands and dangerously limited in background and training to the resolu¬
tion of military, rather than political problems. The cabinet in the after¬
math of its mission’s bitter failure, however, was hardly ready to take any
radical leap inside India’s political jungle. At Nehru’s insistence, Wavell
agreed “provisionally” to convene the constituent assembly on December
9, by which time the viceroy hoped a settlement with the League would be
reached.

The mission ministers met with Attlee at 10 Downing Street on Septem¬
ber 23 to consider the viceroy’s breakdown plan. The prime minister ex¬
pressed “strong objections” to Wavell’s proposals, which he considered
alarmist. Cripps agreed, saying that “the moment our withdrawal was
announced everyone in India would start scrambling for position. . . .
Civil war would come upon us at once.” 36 He favored convening the con¬
stituent assembly at once, with or without the Muslim League. Pethick-
Lawrence felt that “the Viceroy’s proposal would make an administrative
breakdown a certainty.” Attlee could not understand why Wavell wanted
to abandon Madras and Bombay, “two of the best places from which to
withdraw Europeans,” leaving the British troops to hold “the most diffi¬
cult part of India” where “an attempt to set up Pakistan . . . would cause
civil war.”

Wavell spent almost two hours with Jinnah on September 25, reporting
him “very quiet and reasonable” and “anxious for a settlement if it can be
done without loss of prestige.” 37 Jinnah hoped Congress would refrain as a
“gesture of good-will” from appointing any Muslim, and he was interested
in rotating the vice-president’s position in the cabinet with Nehru The
next afternoon, Nehru and Gandhi came in tandem, each talking lor an
hour with the viceroy and convincing him "they do not want jinnah and
I he League In, and Gandhi at the end exposed Congress policy ol domlna

291

BOMBAY TO LONDON ( 1946 )

tion more nakedly than ever before. The more I see of that old man,”
Wavell admitted, “the more I regard him as an unscrupulous old hypocrite.” 38

By October 1, Wavell was convinced that “it is no use trying to squeeze
the Congress any further on the nationalist Muslim issue.” The viceroy
then decided his “best tactics” would be to “induce Jinnah simply to give
me five names for the Muslim seats.” 39 It was in the “obvious interest of the
Muslim League” to come into the government as soon as possible, Wavell
now believed.

So Wavell met Jinnah next day and spelled out his strategy for bringing
the League into the interim government. “Mr. Jinnah said nothing at all on
the nationalist Muslim issue and did not attempt to argue it”; the viceroy
noted, “but he said that if he was to have any chance of success with his
Working Committee he must have some success to show them on the other
points he had raised.” Wavell explained “that the only function of the
Vice-President was to preside at Cabinet meetings in my absence, and that
f could arrange for the leader of the Muslim Party to be appointed as Vice-
Chairman of the C.C.C., which was really a more influential position.” 40
I fe understood well how important matters of prestige were to Jinnah’s
mind and clearly revealed here the unpublicized powers retained by him¬
self as governor-general. By the end of their meeting he “got the impres¬
sion” that Jinnah was “anxious” to “come in.” Jinnah, moreover, by then
must have been at least equally impressed at how much the viceroy wanted
“him” as the League’s comforting countervailing influence to Nehru, Patel,
and the others inside the viceregal council chambers of Delhi and Simla.

Whether it was Wavell’s ardor in wooing him or Jinnah’s current frus¬
trations at having missed the maiden voyage of the interim government
that imbued Nehru with so much seeming power and pomp, those October
negotiations in New Delhi swiftly accomplished what had eluded the la¬
bors of the cabinet mission for three months earlier in the year. Perhaps it
was the tragic, sobering reality of the Great Calcutta Killing and the
bloody Bombay riots, or his council’s impatience, or his own deteriorating
lion 1th that made Jinnah far more flexible in reaching a settlement that was
In bring the League into an interim coalition government with Congress in
n record-breaking mere two weeks of negotiation. Nor did Nehru and Con-
gi oss court him or pander to his ego. Such negative signals from old adver-
mrlcs may have served only to convince Jinnah that it was, indeed, high
I lino for him to scuttle excess baggage and climb aboard while there was
'-nil ii rope lo catch and a ship’s master, to welcome him so warmly.

The Jiawab of Bhopal, jlmiali's old friend and chancellor of the Cham-
I mi ol Princes since I OIL I lion entered the net (or “shoved in n rather in-
IiiinIvo our.” us Wavell put It 11 ). Inviting Jinnah and Nehru to meet in Ills

292

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

palace to discuss their residual differences. “I have consulted some of my
colleagues about the matters discussed by us yesterday,” Nehru wrote Jin-
nuh on October 6.

We all agreed that nothing could be happier and better for the coun¬
try than that these two organisations [Congress and the League]
should meet again as before, as friends having no mental reserva¬
tions and bent on resolving all their differences by mutual consulta¬
tion, and never desiring or allowing the intervention of the British
Government through the Viceroy or some other. . . . We would
therefore welcome the decision of the League to join the interim
Government for it to work as a united team on behalf of India as a
whole. 42

Nehru then noted a number of problems and concerns he had with various
"points put forward” by Jinnah in their conversation. Jinnah responded
next day: “I appreciate and reciprocate your sentiments. . . . With regard
to the second paragraph,” he countered the points noted in Nehru’s letter,
concluding “I am anxious that we should come to . . . settlement without
undue delay.” 43 Nehru’s response to Jinnah’s letter was less cordial; and
Wavcll reported on October 9, “There has evidently been some hitch.”

Two days later, the viceroy wired a “secret” report he had just received
from Bhopal as to what went wrong. Jinnah and Gandhi apparently “ac¬
cepted a formula which spoke of the Muslim League as representing ‘the
overwhelming majority of Muslims.’ Then at the instance of the Patel group
Im (Gandhi) added a rider to the effect that the two parties would agree
to work as a team and would never invoice or permit the intervention of the
<iovernor General. Inevitably the rider was unacceptable to Jinnah. . . ” 44
Wavcll had earlier been at pains to assure Nehru that he was not calling in
| i 1111 a 1 1 to push him and the League into a coalition cabinet in order to ere-
ale a "King’s party" inside the new government, but now he admitted fear¬
ing that "Gandhi and the Congress” were seeking “to secure Muslim League
compliance in an arrangement to eliminate the Governor-General's infill
eiice in the Cabinet and reduce him to a figure-head.” 45

The viceroy had what lie called “a crucial interview with Jinnah” the
next afternoon, when ho learned that the League was ready to join the in¬
terim government but that Jinnah was going to pilch “a surprise last ball
al Congress by proposing a member of the Scheduled (Untouchable)
Caste as one of bis five "Muslim" names for the cabinet. "I said that ll
would look rather like ‘lit for tat."’ Wavcll noted, "a counter to the Coin
gross nomination of a nationalist Muslim, and would thoreloro be rather
an embamiHNinonl to me, .1 gathered that the mini they had In mind

293

BOMBAY TO LONDON ( 1946 )

to nominate was ... at present a Minister in Bengal.” 48 J. N. Mandal was
then minister of law in Bengal, an advocate whose greatest attraction to the
League appears to have been that he was born “untouchable.” Jinnah per¬
sonally decided to remain outside, leaving Liaquat to head his party’s
team, with I. I. Chundrigar of Bombay, Abdur Rab Nishtar from the fron¬
tier, and Ghazanfar Ali Khan of the Punjab to complete the League’s in¬
terim government slate. Nehru dropped two of his Muslims, Shafaat Khan
and Syed Zaheer, and Subhas Bose’s brother, Sarat Bose, from his cabinet,
thus making room for Jinnah’s choices. The new coalition was officially an¬
nounced on October 15. But as communal rioting spread from Bengal to
the North-West Frontier, the Congress-League coalition was off to a most
precarious start. A major stumbling block was that the League insisted on
preempting at least one of the three most powerful cabinet positions—
foreign affairs, home, or defence—held by Nehru, Patel, and Baldev Singh,
respectively. Congress was unwilling to relinguish any of those jobs. Nehru
was also upset about reports of a speech Liaquat made in Karachi on Oc¬
tober 20, when he reportedly said the League had decided to enter the
government because “Congress in its heart was adverse to the League’s en¬
try” and that, as before, Muslims must continue to prepare to “fight” for
"the winning of their goal—Pakistan.” 47 Nehru demanded retraction of both
statements and wanted clarification of the League’s long-range intentions
ns well as “a definite assurance by them that there will be cooperation and
team work.” 48 Wavell feared that Congress resolved to “do all they can to
prevent the League coming in.” 49 Nehru had earlier indicated that Con¬
gress was ready to turn over finance, then headed by South Indian Chris¬
tian Dr. John Matthai, to the League. A harried Wavell insisted, whatever
I lie outcome, that “I must . . . come home at once for consultation.”

On the evening of October 24, Nehru confirmed that Congress had de¬
rided to resign if Patel’s Home ministry portfolio went to the League. The
viceroy called in Jinnah at 7:30 p.m. to ask if he would accept finance.

J. was not in a very accommodating mood, . . . but he agreed . . .
with the usual proviso that it was subject to the decision of his Work¬
ing Committee. I then sent for Nehru at 9.30 p.m. and told him that
the League would accept Finance, and asked him to let me know
what alternative portfolio he proposed for Matthai. Nehru, who
looked very tired and worn, accepted this quietly, and said he would
let me know alter consulting his colleagues. . . . Neither party has
the least trust in the other. . . . It is all very wearing; and for al¬
most the first time in my life I am really beginning to feel the strain
badly* not sleeping properly and lotting these wretched people
worry mn. #0

294

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

The new members of the government were sworn in October 26, but
(here would be no harmony or true spirit of unity in that short-lived cen¬
tral government. Jinnah permitted himself to be persuaded by Wavell to
join up, only as a tactical strategem, to buy time for the League to marshal
all its forces, gathering strength in this brief period of seeming coopera¬
tion with Congress for the final phase, the last charge up the perilous hill
of partition to Pakistan. There was no reconciliation, no solution to the
problems of fundamental mistrust, suspicion, fear, and hatred. Too much
blood had been let, too many knives buried in too many backs, too many
unborn babies had been butchered in their mother’s wombs, too many
women raped, too many men robbed; people were fired to irrational hatred
by the sick reflections of their communal neighbors in the house or village
next door.

India’s newly elected legislative assembly met on October 29, with
Nehru and Liaquat Ali Khan seated side by side on the government’s front
bench, neither smiling or saying a word to each other all day. They sat the
way most Hindu and Muslim Indians lived, in sullen, silent, angry proxim¬
ity, resenting, fearing, and distrusting one another. Next morning Nehru
took to his bed, exhausted more by depression than overwork though his
daily schedule had been grueling. Jinnah spent over an hour with Wavell
on October 30, and the viceroy found him “at his most Jinnah-ish . . .
completely unsatisfactory.” 51 “I told Mr. Jinnah that I hoped he would call
bis Council at once to accept the Statement of May 16,” Wavell reported,
since that cabinet mission statement “was a condition of the League’s ac¬
ceptance of office at the Centre” and had been rejected the previous month
by I lie League’s council in Bombay.

Wavell flew in to Calcutta on October 31. Sarat Bose was threatening
to call a new strike. Governor Burrows warned the viceroy that he could
not "carry Bengal” for more than one more year. Nehru and Patel, and
Liaquat and Nishtar flew to Calcutta early in November to see for them¬
selves bow India’s premier metropolis was faring. Burrows briefed them on
arrival, pointing out that the army had been directing traffic in the streets
in Calcutta for approximately ten weeks, while trade was “stagnating” and
workers as well as businessmen were “very injuriously affected.” Bengal,
with 33 million Muslims and 25 million Hindus, desperately needed an
"nil-party government” to help bring “tranquillity” to the province, yet no
coalition was even being discussed. Nehru and Liaquat could hardly tic
coinplish for Bengal, however, what they found impossible to do among
themselves in Now Delhi.

Covcrnor Sir I high Dow of Bihar reported his “iipprec’liilion" of I lie
communal riots In Ills province on November 9. by which Hint) nine bill

295

BOMBAY TO LONDON ( 1946 )

talions of troops had been ordered into the rural regions most seriously af¬
fected. “Roving Hindu mobs have sought to exterminate the Moslem popu¬
lation wherever they could find them,” wrote the governor. “Almost all
casualties have been Moslems and it is estimated that of these 75% have been
women and children.” 52

Dawn headlined a mid-November interview given by Jinnah to the for¬
eign press on its front page, “absolute Pakistan the only solution,” re¬
porting:

Muslim League President Qaed-e-Azam Mohammed Ali Jinnah de¬
clared . . . that in his view “the only solution” to India’s present
communal situation “is Pakistan and Hindustan,” . . . anything else
would be artificial and unnatural. ... Of the Interim Government,

Mr. Jinnah said . . . the Muslim League Ministers were there “as
sentinels” who would watch Muslim interests in the day to day ad¬
ministration. . . . Asked if he favoured abandoning the Interim
Government, Mr. Jinnah replied: “I have said this: It was forced
upon us. The present arrangement I don’t approve of.” 53

Congress insisted, and Pethick-Lawrence agreed, that the constituent
assembly must be called on December 9, as planned. Official invitations
were issued, and soon after, on November 21, Dawn led off with “The
Viceroy seems to think that the play of Hamlet can be staged with only
half a Hamlet: he has summoned the Constituent Assembly to meet, . . .
although the Muslim League’s decision not to participate in it still stands.
There are reasons to believe that he has been jockeyed into this decision
by Congress pressure. ... For some days past all ‘guns’ have been trained
on him. . . . Whatever his gallantry on the battlefields might have been,
he seems to have put that virtue in cold storage along with his Field-
Marshal’s uniform.” 54

Wavell met with all four Muslim League members of the cabinet that
afternoon, and “Liaquat put to me quite bluntly the question whether I
and His Majesty’s Government intended to keep order in India and pro¬
tect minorities while we remained here or not. He said that the responsi¬
bility was still ours, but that we were not carrying it out. ... I felt bound
in honesty to tell them that our ability to carry out our responsibility had
very greatly weakened. Since the British Government had announced its
Intention of handing over power in India shortly, we could not expect the
.same degree of co-operation and support from the officials and police that
we formerly enjoyed. The recent troubles Imd shown that the police in
many parts ol India were alleeled with eomimmalism and were no longer
lo be relied en for linn iiellon against their own community.” 89

296

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

Jinnah announced to the press on November 22 that “No representative
of the Muslim League will participate in the Constituent Assembly.” Wavell
sent for Liaquat next day and “argued” with him for over an hour, trying
to persuade his finance member to get his party to attend the assembly. “I
completely failed to convince him,” Wavell wired Pethick-Lawrence, “as I
had previously failed . . . with Jinnah.” 56 It was finally clear to Lord
Wavell that his last great push, getting the League into government, was
only a Pyrrhic victory. Nothing had changed.

The secretary of state invited Wavell to return home at once with two
representatives of the Congress and two from the League to discuss the
cut ire situation and seek a new settlement formula. The viceroy suggested
adding a Sikh, proposing Baldev Singh, his defence member. Nehru con¬
sulted colleagues on the Working Committee and on behalf of Congress
turned down the invitation. Baldev also declined a day later. Jinnah, how¬
ever, was pleased to accept and agreed to fly to London with Liaquat and
llie viceroy. Attlee then wired a personal appeal to Nehru, pleading with
I lit u to reconsider, “to help in this way to make rapid and smooth progress
towards the goal of Indian Freedom.” 57 Congress met again for a full day’s
discussion, and Nehru and Baldev Singh decided to go to London after all.
On tliit eve of their departure, Jinnah changed his mind after learning
llint Nehru and Baldev were coming. “What an impossible set of people
they are I” Wavell noted. “I sent Ian Scott off to see Liaquat; and by mid¬
night lie returned to say that we had got this far, that Liaquat had agreed
lo come with us to Karachi tomorrow to see Jinnah and try to persuade
him to come.” 58 The next day when they flew from Delhi, Liaquat was
“dressed for Europe.” Jinnah received a midnight cable from Attlee, per¬
sonally pressing him to come, and though “rather late,” he finally climbed
a hoard the viceroy’s plane in Karachi. The crowd that had come to see
him off at the airport shouted “Pakistan Zindabad.”

London-Final Farewell
( 1946 )

London in December was cold, wet, and bleak. How redolent it must have
been of his first arrival there fifty-four years ago. So much had changed, yet
so many feelings were the same. Jinnah still felt lost and alone, cut off
from all those who once loved him, forced out to fight treacherous battles
with hated strangers all of whom wanted to cheat him of the starring role.
IIow different his life would have been had he remained with the company
of Shakespearean thespians with whom he had performed years ago. The
company he traveled with in 1946 was a far less congenial troupe. And how
1 jitter the final act had become. Pie wore his black Jinnah cap, but the rest
of his emaciated body was clothed in a double-breasted British wool suit
and a heavy gray coat.

Wavell had prepared a “top secret” note for discussion with the cabinet,

I landing it to Attlee, Pethick-Lawrence, and Alexander at the start of their
first meeting on December 3.

Present situation is that Congress feel that H.M.G. dare not break
with them unless they do something quite outrageous. Their aim is
power and to get rid of British influence as soon as possible, after
which they think they can deal with both Muslims and Princes; the
former by bribery, blackmail, propaganda, and if necessary force;

I 111 ! latter by stirring up their people against them, as well. 1

Woodrow Wyatt had arranged a luncheon for Jinnah that day with a
number of other M.P.s; he reported that Jinnah was “still harping” on the
mission's betrayal.

I I In] | cels very bitterly that he should have been allowed to form a
Government when Congress turned clown the .short term plan, lie

298

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

LONDON—FINAL FAREWELL (1946)

vehemently sticks to the view that Congress have never accepted the
long-term plan, never meant to accept it and never will accept it. . . .

He says repeatedly that all they are after is to seize power ... he
will do all he can to prevent that. He now refers to the Cabinet Mis¬
sion plan as a fraud and a humbug. . . . He has now returned to the
proposition that only the creation of Pakistan can deal with the situa¬
tion. Any lingering thoughts that he had at Simla of a central gov¬
ernment with three subjects appear to have gone for ever. . . . “You
don’t realise,” he said, “how far the situation has gone in India since
you were there.” His theme song on this issue is what he calls the
deliberate butchery of Muslims by Hindus in Bihar. When asked for
a constructive proposition, he said that the only thing that could be
done immediately was to restore law and order. . . . They must all
co-operate, particularly the British, in restoring law and order. . . .
Then, for Pakistan. ... I do not ever remember seeing him before
in a worse mood. . . . His last words to me as he got into his car
were: “There is no time any more for argument.”

The only hope now, I am sure, is to frighten him badly and to
.say that if he won’t accept the Constituent Assembly, then his peo¬
ple must leave the government, and he will get no support from the
British. 2

I’Hhick-Lawrence tackled Jinnah and Liaquat after lunch and reported
much the same about Jinnah’s attitude.

The cabinet mission trio met with Wavell and Attlee at 10 Downing
Street the next morning. Cripps “said that he felt that the position had
now come to the stage where the course of events would depend on the
action taken by the British Government. It looked as if it had got beyond
the British Government. It looked as if it had got beyond the possibilities
nl compromise. If Jinnah was in the frame of mind indicated there would
be no chance of an adjustment or of Jinnah accepting one. . . . Jinnah
was playing for full Pakistan which he expected to get as the outcome of
a breakdown. . . . He [Cripps] thought the vital thing now was for II.M.G.
to make a declaration of what they were going to do. He thought that the
Opposition would agree that our position in India was now becoming un
tenable.” 8

Alexander was not sure of this latter point, remarking that at a dinner
lor Jinnah and Liaquat, “Mr. Eden had expressed the view . . . that pos¬
sibly wo ought to say that we had gone too fast and that, while we ad
lierecl to our pledges, it was necessary to give a breathing space for law
and order lo be restored and for constitution-making to proceed in a calm
atmosphere. Otherwise we should be tumble lo fulfil oar obligations lo
mlnorllloN," This Conservative party line was. of course, the same argil

ment Jinnah had used with Pethick-Lawrence. Alexander suggested “that
this general line might be taken by the Opposition and might command
some support in the country. Moreover, the case might be made that we
were allowing India to fall into chaos and that this would be a danger to
world peace.” 4

Attlee left the cabinet meeting to see Jinnah and Liaquat, immediately
after which he reported to his colleagues that “the burden of Mr. Jinnah’s
discourse had been that it was a mistake to have tried to introduce self-
government into India. . . . Mr. Jinnah seemed convinced that the Con¬
gress did not mean business in regard to the Constituent Assembly; his
own aim was simply that of Pakistan, within the British Commonwealth.
He held out no prospect of coming to an arrangement with the Congress.” 5

While the prime minister met with the Muslim League leaders at 10
Downing Street, the mission and the viceroy went across Whitehall to re¬
convene inside the secretary of state’s old office for a meeting with Nehru.
Pethick-Lawrence opened that meeting by saying how “anxious” they all
were to “help to enable India to achieve independence smoothly.” 6 The
secretary of state confessed that the cabinet mission’s three-tier “solution”
seemed to be “losing its hold on the thought of both parties.” He added,
dropping something of a bombshell to Nehru, that “The question now was
whether that broad general basis was any longer sufficiently accepted to
make it worth while to proceed upon it. Pandit Nehru said that he thought
that that was the basis on which everything was proceeding. Naturally
there was tension. . .

Here Wavell jumped in to say “that a total of several thousand killed
indicated something more than tension.” But Nehru argued that the rea¬
son for so many deaths was that “steps had been taken which encouraged
violence. He had thought that the essence of the Cabinet Mission’s pro¬
posals was that they were to be put through. Was it now suggested that
the essence was that if one party objected the proposals did not go for¬
ward?” Pethick-Lawrence tried to explain “that it was not H.M.G.’s policy
that one party should have a veto on progress, but clearly if one major
party declined to participate, that raised a very difficult situation.” Nehru
laid been caught off guard, never expecting this intimation that his British
hosts, his good British friends, his Labour comrades, might suddenly turn
their backs on him, simply cutting their losses.

Cripps then asked what Nehru thought were the “fundamental reasons”
the League would not come into the constituent assembly. Nehru insisted
that the League had "never been prepared to co-operate,” being totally
negative about everything, wanting only "a veto." The (longress wanted
"tooperation" bemuse everyone knew that nothing could be done "socially

301

300 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

or politically” if co-operation among Hindus or Muslims was lacking. Nehru
argued, however, that the Muslim League was “not interested” in either
social or political “advance.” Cripps next asked whether Nehru thought
that if the Muslims could “be assured that a three-tier system would even-
iun to” out of a constituent assembly, that might induce them to come in?
Nehru said he thought the Muslims would come in anyhow “sooner or
Inter,” provided that they felt the assembly was going to be convened. But
even if the Muslim League came in, Nehru predicted, it would not be to
work harmoniously with Congress, but merely as “a step in a conflict,” the
way it had done in the interim government.

The longer Jawaharlal talked, the clearer it became to all of them that
Nolmi and Congress would not be able to work harmoniously with Jinnah
and the League—not in the same cabinet and probably not in the same
country. Still they tried, for another hour to convince Nehru that it might
just possibly be better to reassure the League of a free hand in its sections
to form the groups that would have satisfied it—three months ago—than to
embark upon trying to draft a constitution without one-quarter of its popu¬
lation represented. But Nehru “could not see why the Muslim League
should not come in and put any questions of interpretation to the Federal
( hurt. The only other test was the test of battle.” 7

That same afternoon, Pethick-Lawrence, Cripps, and Alexander met
with jinnah and Liaquat. Cripps asked Jinnah if he would join the constit¬
uent assembly if the federal court handed down an interpretation “favour¬
able to the Muslim League” about “procedure in the Sections?” Jinnah
replied that his League “could not be a party” to any such judicial appeal,
concluding that it “would be unwise to plunge India into constitution-
making in the present atmosphere.” 8 Cripps and Alexander argued that the
Ih'ltish would stand firm behind their mission plan. But they did not set
Jinnah',s mind at ease or budge him from his intransigent position.

At this time Cripps favored a public declaration that the British would
leave India in a year or, at the most, eighteen months, insisting it would be
necessary to hand things over to any government set up by the constituent
assembly. Pethick-Lawrence believed that Nehru was anxious to reach a
sell lenient “fair to the Muslims” but suspected many “more communal
elements" within Congress would not let him do so. Wavcll agreed, insist¬
ing there was “no chance at all” of Congress showing “generosity” toward
Muslims. They discussed the possibility and wisdom of referring the "In
(linn problem” to the United Nations, with Attlee suggesting that it might
be brought up as a matter "endangering world peace.” Wftvell reminded
them that "Jinnah hail always emphasised that Pakistan would remain

LONDON—FINAL FAKEWELL (1946)

within the Commonwealth and presumably hoped to get British assistance
to deal with the Frontier problem.”

Friday, December 6, 1946, was the last day of London’s India confer¬
ence, since Nehru had insisted on returning to New Delhi for the opening
session of the constituent assembly on December 9. Jinnah and Liaquat,
however, were in no rush to get home and opted to remain in London a
few more weeks. The Cabinet met by themselves and approved a state¬
ment, which began: “The conversations held by His Majesty’s Government
with Pandit Nehru, Mr. Jinnah, Mr. Liaquat Ali Khan and Sardar Baldev
Singh came to an end this evening . . .” concluding that “Should a Consti¬
tution come to be framed by a Constituent Assembly in which a large sec¬
tion of the Indian population had not been represented, His Majesty’s Gov¬
ernment could not of course contemplate—as the Congress have stated they
would not contemplate—forcing such a Constitution upon any unwilling
parts of the country.” 9 That evening, Prime Minister Attlee informed his
Indian guests:

The British Government had done their part. They had secured ac¬
ceptance in this country for a line of policy urged for many years by
leading Indians. They were entitled now to ask for Indian coopera¬
tion. In the present series of meetings they had been unable to get
acceptance by either side of the view held by the other. They pro¬
posed therefore to issue tonight a Statement. 10

Nehru flew home the next morning. Kanji Dwarkadas, who had just
arrived in London from New York after six months in the United States
studying “labor problems,” called on Jinnah at Claridge’s.

I found him sick and depressed. ... I told him that I was away
from India for about seven months and I was, therefore, not able to
understand what was happening to the country. “Country, what
country?” Jinnah asked. “There is no country. There are only Hindus
and Mussalmans.” I found that Jinnah wanted no settlement except
on basis of Pakistan. Fie wanted to keep the fight on because he was
badly handled and treated and abused by the Congress leaders. . . .

I put it to Jinnah that the Muslim League and the Congress could
carry on their quarrels outside the Government . . . but was it not
essential that they should work together inside the Government and
do as much as they possibly could for the country? Jinnah replied:
“What do you mean? How can it he possible? Do you mean to say
that you and I can kiss each other in this room and go out of the
room and stab each other?” ... I felt that if the Congress leaders
had not broken away from him in personal relationship, lie would
not have been no embittered. 11 In .sell esteem, Ills pride and Ills feel-

302

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

ing of being personally hurt had embittered him and he had created
ghosts of suspicion and distrust all round him. At the same time he
had kept his shrewdness and he knew the art of not speaking too
much as also of upsetting his opponents. He had found in the im¬
petuous and conceited Nehru, an easy victim. 11

Pethick-Lawrence’s parliamentary undersecretary, Arthur Henderson,
who met with Kanji that December, also remarked about Jinnah being “a
sick man” which must have been common knowledge by then in the
higher echelons of the British raj as well as among the leadership of both
(Congress and the League. “Henderson . . . told me that he had sat next
to Jinnah at the King’s Lunch and was surprised to see that Jinnah did not
touch the food at all,” noted Kanji. “He conceded that Jinnah was a sick
man and promptly added: ‘Don’t think that your troubles would be over if
Jinnah disappeared. Liaquat and Suhrawardy are worse. . . .’ I agreed.
I hit neither Liaquat nor Suhrawardy would be able to keep the Muslim
League together . . . as Jinnah had been able to do.” 12

That ninth December day the constituent assembly met for the first
time in New Delhi “with dignity and decorum,” acting viceroy Sir John
(lolville reported to Wavell, who also had lingered in London. Dr. Satchid-
annnda Sinha was the convening president till the assembly elected Dr.
Hajendra Prasad, who was to be the Indian republic’s first president, to
chair its deliberations. The Hindu press generally hailed this “historic
occasion” as the culmination of “that popular awakening to a sense of
national solidarity and high destiny which began nearly a century ago.” 1,1
The Muslim League boycott, however, proved totally effective, with 79 of
I he seals in that assembly hall remaining empty, while almost 300 congress¬
men and women took their places as representatives of their inchoate
nation.

Begum Shah Nawaz and Ispahani had gone to New York to present the
League's case to as many delegates of the UN as they could meet, return¬
ing through London to spend mid-December with Jinnah and Liaquat.
Shafts shrewd Punjabi daughter recalled how

Ispahani was talking about the Punjabi Muslims, the so-called sword-
arm, who had done nothing to achieve Pakistan. 1 listened quietly
for two or three days and then I could not stand it any more. I said
that it was not the rank and file, but the leaders, who were re-

.sponsible for it. The Qua id asked at once, "What do you mean by
leaders? Today, every Muslim Leaguer is a lender." I said if that is
so, then Punjab will not lag behind oilier provinces. , , .

303

LONDON—FINAL FAREWELL ( 1946)

While in London, Dr. Buchman, founder of the Moral Re-Armament
Movement, invited the Quaid-i-Azam and Nawabzada Liaquat Ali
Khan to see their play and have supper with him, and wanted me to
persuade the Quaid to accept the invitation. [Ispahani] and I had
seen the play in New York and liked it immensely. Mr. Jinnah agreed,
and after the play when we went to Dr. Buchman’s house, I said that
I had asked the Quaid to attend the supper because I wanted Lon¬
doners to know him. On that one of the guests said, “London knows
Mr. Jinnah.” How that perked him up! Mr. Jinnah was the life of
the party, talked of his grand-children and gave us a number of
anecdotes. 14

Jinnah was there with Liaquat Ali, Ispahani, and the begum on December
11, when the prime minister informed the Commons that “the conversa¬
tions with Indian leaders which took place during last week have unfortu¬
nately ended without agreement. ... I am sure I am speaking for all
parties in this House in making appeal to all communities in India to co¬
operate in framing a Constitution.” 15 Winston Churchill rose, however, to
note that “His Majesty’s Opposition have shown over all these long months
great forbearance and restraint in not raising a Debate upon India, but I
must give the Leader of the House notice that we feel a Debate must now
take place. Matters are assuming so grave an aspect that it is necessary
that the nation at large shall have its attention concentrated upon them.”

The India Debate ran for the next two days. Cripps kicked off at 3:52
i’.m., moving “That this House . . . expressed its hope that a settlement of
the present difficulties between Indian Parties will be forthcoming.” 16 At
4:39 p.m. Churchill rose to respond:

I warned the House as long ago as 1931 . . . that if we were to
wash our hands of all responsibility, ferocious civil war would
speedily break out between the Muslims and Hindus. But this, like
other warnings, fell upon deaf and unregarding ears.

Indeed, it is certain that more people have lost their lives or have
been wounded in India by violence since the interim Government
under Mr. Nehru was installed in office four months ago by the
Viceroy, than in the previous 90 years. This is only a foretaste of
what may come. It may be only the first few heavy drops before the
thunderstorm breaks upon us. These frightful slaughters over wide
regions and in obscure uncounted villages have, in the main, fallen
upon Muslim minorities.

I must record my own belief . . . that any attempt to establish the
reign of n Hindu numerical majority In India will never bo achieved

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

304

without a civil war, proceeding, not perhaps at first on the fronts of
armies or organised forces, but in thousands of separate and isolated
places. This war will, before it is decided, lead through unaccount¬
able agonies to an awful abridgement of the Indian population. . . .
The Muslims, numbering 90 million, . . . comprise the majority of
the fighting elements in India . . . the word “minority” has no rele¬
vance or sense when applied to masses of human beings numbered
in many scores of millions. . . . 17

Those remarks of Churchill made Jinnah take even a tougher line than he
had with Attlee and Cripps as well as with Woodrow Wyatt. This final
London visit helped reassure him of the strength of Conservative party
support he still enjoyed, and it confirmed his resolve to let Nehru and

< 'engross race round the constituent assembly track alone, stirring animos¬
ity among British officialdom as well as among the Muslims who watched
IVom smouldering sidelines. For that same December 13, 1946, Nehru rose
in New Delhi to move that: “This Constituent Assembly declares its firm
anil solemn resolve to proclaim India as an Independent Sovereign Repub¬
lic, . . . Wherein all power and authority . . . are derived from the peo-
ple.” 1 "

On the evening of December 18, Prime Minister Attlee called Lord
I mills Mountbatten to 10 Downing Street and invited him to succeed
Wnvell. Attlee and his colleagues were “most unfavourably impressed” with
India's political “trends,” and they feared that “If we were not very careful,
we might well find ourselves handing India over not simply to civil war,
Inil to political movements of a definitely totalitarian character. Urgent
action was needed to break the deadlock, and the principal members of the

< ablnet had reached the conclusion that a new personal approach was
perhaps the only hope.” 19 Everyone agreed that “Dickie” Mountbatten

.. possessed the requisite charisma. Mountbatten’s “fatal charm” was

by now known the world over; his liberal ideas made him generally accept¬
able (o Labour and his royal blood more than acceptable to Conservatives.
As Empress Victoria’s great grandson, Mountbatten was viewed as the per-
lecl last viceroy for India. His ambition and desire, however, was to return
lo active duly with the navy, and his appointment as rear-admiral-in-coni-
mimd of the First Cruiser Squadron was to have started in April. Moiml-
bulten knew enough about India, moreover, to appreciate how impossible
his new assignment was, so he “put up a stiff light against the Prime Minis
Id's pressure and blandishments, stressing his extreme tiredness, and the
lolly of wearing him out too young,” his trusted press secretary mid Bos¬
well, Campbell Johnson recalled. It hoiighl him some lime, lail il did not
ill lei Al l lee's derision.

305

LONDON—FINAL FAREWELL ( 1946 )

Jinnah and Liaquat flew into Cairo for a few days of Pan-Islamic meet¬
ings en route to India. “It is only when Pakistan is established that Indian
and Egyptian Muslims will be really free,” the Quaid-i-Azam insisted to
Egypt’s prime minister Nokrashy Pasha on December 17. “Otherwise there
will be the menace of a Hindu Imperialist Raj spreading its tentacles right
across the Middle East.” 20 Jinnah was a guest of the Arab League in Cairo
and told a press conference on December 20: “If India will be ruled by
Hindu imperialistic power, it will be as great a menace for the future if not
greater, as the British imperialistic power has been . . . the whole of the
Middle East will fall from the frying pan into the fire.” 21 Asked about his
talks with Egyptian and Palestinian Arab leaders, Jinnah explained:

I told them of the danger that a Hindu empire would represent for
the Middle-East and assured them that Pakistan would tender co¬
operation to all nations struggling for freedom without consideration
of race or colour. ... If a Hindu empire is achieved, it will mean
the end of Islam in India, and even in other Muslim countries. There
is no doubt that spiritual and religious ties bind us inexorably with
Egypt. If we were drowned all will be drowned. 22

On December 22, 1946, Jinnah was back on Karachi’s soil. He had come
full circle in the seven decades of his life, home again from London to the
city of his birth, which was soon to emerge as the capital of his nation and
then to remain his final resting place. Fatima was waiting to take him
home, to nurse and care for him properly, as she alone could do. But some
of the longest and toughest negotiations still lurked up the steep road ahead.
His heaviest battle had yet to be won.

New Delhi
( 1947 )

As the new year dawned practically every one seemed to know it was time
for dramatic change in Great Britain’s relationship with India; but what
was to be done? And how? Jinnah had returned home a sick man, too ex¬
hausted to say anything, lacking energy even to meet with his Working
(.'ommittee before January 29. “I hope that Jinnah does not interpret our
Slulcment of December 6th to mean that if he only sits back and does
nothing he will get his Pakistan,” Pethick-Lawrence wrote Wavell on Janu¬
ary 2, probably suspecting that his letter would be called to Jinnah’s atten¬
tion. “It may also be interpreted to mean a Provincial autonomy which
would be far less to his liking. I agree with you that Pakistan is a quite
1111 workable proposition.” 1

Again on January 1, Attlee appealed to Mountbatten to take up the
viceroy's burden, and Mountbatten replied two days later:

I have thought over very earnestly all that you said. ... It makes
all the difference to me to know that you propose . . . terminating
I lie British “Raj” on a definite and specified date; or earlier ... if
the Indian Parties can agree. ... I could not have gone out there
with confidence, if it had been possible to construe my arrival as a
perpetuation, at this moment, of the viceregal system. ... I deeply
appreciate your offer to give me every assistance in forming my new
stall. I told Sir Stafford . . . how honoured and touched 1 was that
lie should have offered to come to India with me, but I made it clear
to him that I felt the presence of a man of his prestige and experi¬
ence could not lull to reduce me to a mere figure head in the eyes of
Ihe people he would be negotiating with, ... I feel il is essential
Iluil I should be allowed hi IIv home ns often as I feel II really nrees-

307

NEW DELHI ( 1947 )

sary to do so. . . . Although it would be our intention to observe
the Protocol necessary to uphold the position of Viceroy and Vice¬
reine, my wife and I would wish to visit Indian Leaders, and repre¬
sentative British and Indian people, in their own homes and unac¬
companied by staff; and to make ourselves easier of access than the
existing protocol appears to have made possible. 2

Lady Edwina Mountbatten’s charm was at least as potent as her husband’s,
and Nehru’s romantic fascination for her was to play a role in the frantic
last minute negotiations that often kept at least one of the Mountbattens
in touch with Jawaharlal “unaccompanied by staff.”

The British director of central intelligence, Sir Norman P. A. Smith,
informed Wavell that from the “British angle,”

the game so far has been well played . . . both Congress and the
League have been brought into the Central Government. . . . The
Indian problem has been thereby thrust into its appropriate plane of
communalism ... an opportunity for orderly evacuation now pre¬
sents itself. . . . The fullest advantage should be taken of our pres¬
ent breathing space. . . . Secretary of State’s control over civil offi¬
cers should be abrogated at the earliest possible moment. This is
only fair to the officers and has the political advantage that a deci¬
sive gesture of this kind will help to keep the problem on its correct
communal plane. . . . Grave communal disorder must not disturb
us into action which would reintroduce anti-British agitation. . . .

The former is a natural, if ghastly, process tending in its own way to
the solution of the Indian problem. 3

Such neo-Malthusian cynicism was rarely put into written form by any
twentieth-century British officials.

A few days before the League’s Working Committee was scheduled to
meet in Karachi, Khizar ordered his Punjab police to crack down on the
active League national guards in his province. The Muslim guards were
viewed as a “party army on lines familiar in Germany and Italy before the
war” and compared to “Mosley’s Black Shirts” in England by Governor
Jenkins, in explaining the official ban to Pethick-Lawrence. 4 More than a
thousand steel helmets were found in national guard headquarters at
I ,ahore, and the general commanders of the guard were all arrested. The
I .digue responded with “direct action” protests in the streets, demanding an
end to Klvi'/ar’s coalition government and thus finally bringing the Punjab’s
Muslim "swordarm” into violent operation, as Begum Shah Nawaz prom¬
ised jinnah in Cluridge’s. The next day Klii/ar withdrew his ban, fearing
hr could not hope to ms I ore provincial peace otherwise. Too late. League
lenders now angrily demanded Klilzar s liuinecllule resignation; muss moot

308 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

ings were attended by huge crowds in Lahore and other Punjab cities.
Sliaukat Hayat proclaimed that the Muslim League was ready to “put out
15 million Muslims to break [the] law,” if Khizar’s ministry refused to re¬
sign. 5 At midnight, Khizar struck again, arresting all the most powerful
provincial League leaders, including the nawab of Mamdot, Firoz Khan
Noon, and Mian Mumtaz Daultana. Riots erupted in every district of the
Punjab. On January 31, the League’s Working Committee resolved against
culling the council to reconsider its rejection of the mission’s plan, thus
removing any residual possibility of the League opting to enter the con-
si itilent assembly.

Nehru saw Wavell the next day and vowed that the constituent assem¬
bly would carry on, saying he would have to consult his colleagues as to
11icir next move, though Wavell rightly anticipated that “Congress can now
I hi idly fail to demand the dismissal or resignation of the League Members
ol the Cabinet.” 6 Before that request of February 8 came, however, Attlee
wrote Wavell to ask him to resign, notifying him that his successor had
I icon chosen. The British cabinet recognized that the “danger of civil war
in India could not be ruled out” and feared that perhaps “it was Mr. Jin-
imil's intention to bring it about . . . there was no telling what the conse-
<|uences of their [Muslim League] actions in the Punjab might be. It
seemed that they were developing the technique of civil disobedience. . . .
In the long run the extent to which the League would be able to cause
serious trouble would depend on whether their activities caused the Indian
Army to disintegrate.” 7 In New Delhi, astute observers like V. P. Menon
now considered India’s partition “inevitable.” 8

On February 20, 1947, Prime Minister Attlee informed his peers in the
(lommons that:

11 is Majesty’s Covernment desire to hand over their responsibility to
authorities established by a constitution approved by all parties in
India . . . but unfortunately there is at present no clear prospect
dial such a constitution . . . will emerge. . . . His Majesty’s Gov¬
ernment wish to make it clear that it is their definite intention to
lake the necessary steps to effect the transference of power into re¬
sponsible Indian hands by a date not later than June 1948. ... It is
Iherefore essential that all parties should sink their differences in
order that they may be ready to shoulder the great responsibilities
wbir h will come upon them next year.” 1 '

Congress and the League both welcomed the new statement. "The British
(iovermuent have al last seen ihc light and taken a historic decision which
will limtllv end (lie ludo British conflict in n maiiiicr worthy of civilized

NEW DELHI ( 1947 ) 309

nations,” wrote the Hindustan Times next day. “The Muslim League and
Mr. Jinnah are now face to face with reality. No Indian wishes to deny the
Muslim community its rightful place in India; it is not possible to do so
now that the third party is quitting. There is no alternative to a mutual
settlement.” 10 But Daion did not agree, arguing in its lead article the same
day: “Mr. Attlee and his colleagues appear to have realised at last what the
Muslim League has repeatedly asserted that the hope of framing an agreed
constitution for a united India was an idle dream. All attempts made to
that end have failed because they were based on an unreal approach.” 11

Wavell met with Nehru and Liaquat on February 21. “Nehru was ob¬
viously impressed by the Statement and conscious of the responsibility
thrown on the Congress,” reported the viceroy. “He spoke of the possible
partition of the Punjab and Bengal, if agreement was not reached.” 12
Liaquat was not prepared to react for the League, and Wavell suggested it
might be best for him to invite Jinnah “to come to Delhi.” A week later,
Liaquat informed Wavell that “Jinnah was a sick man [had gone to Bom¬
bay] and would not be in Delhi before the middle of the month [March].” 13

During the last week in February, the Punjab erupted with intensified
violence in half a dozen major cities, including Lahore and Amritsar, with
mobs of young League followers “invading courts and private houses and
endeavouring to hoist Muslim League flag in place of Union Jack.” 14 Sev¬
eral deaths, of police as well as civilians, and hundreds of injuries shook
Khizar’s resolve and made him decide to “settle ’ with the League by re¬
leasing all prisoners, removing the month-long ban on public meetings, and
hoping to organize an all-party coalition government, which Governor
Jenkins viewed as “most improbable.” The League had also begun direct
action in the North-West Frontier province; “unruly mobs” surrounded and
broke most of the windows of the Congress premier, Dr. Khan Sahib’s
house in Peshawar, while police stood by and “refused to obey orders to
open fire.” 15

Khizar resigned on March 2, after consulting with Zafrullah Khan and
other friends he trusted in Lahore. He concluded to Governor Jenkins

that the Muslim League must be brought up against reality without
delay. . . . They [League leaders] had no idea of the strength of
Hindu and Sikh feeling against them and so long as he and his Mus¬
lim Unionist colleagues acted as a buffer, they would not change
their fantastic and arrogant ideas. . . . The outlook for Mamdot
| Punjabi League loader] was very bleak, and ... if be failed to se¬
cure adequate support from the Hindus or Sikhs or both, il would
lie my duly to go Into Section 93 [Governor’s Itaj]. 1 "

310

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

311

This marked the end of Punjabi unity; the political demise of the “Land of
Five Rivers.” Sikh leader Swaran Singh told the governor that his party had
"mo intention” of joining a coalition government with the League since
they had no intention of allowing themselves to be “treated as serfs under
Muslim masters, and felt that they were strong enough to defend them¬
selves.” 17 Anti-League meetings spread the following week; and Congress
and the Akali Sikhs announced plans for mass rallies for March 11 and
proclaimed “anti-Pakistan Day” to be held throughout the Punjab. Vio¬
lence spread and more deaths were reported daily.

The India debate was launched in the Commons on March 5 by Cripps,
who defended the government’s policy and noted how “unfortunate” it was
that

just at the moment when the Muslim League was about to recon¬
sider the situation with a view, possibly, to coming into the Con¬
stituent Assembly at Karachi, events in the Punjab boiled up. . . .

Wo can only hope that tolerance and good sense will bring about
some settlement. . . . This is just another one of those factors which
make it so difficult to predict the course of events ... in India to¬
day. 18

Winston Churchill rose the next day to speak the opposition’s mind. He
a I firmed his continued adherence to the 1942 Cripps offer and accused the
present government of having departed in several basic respects from the
U) 12 formula. He launched a bitter attack on the “Government of Mr.
Nclim," which he called “a complete disaster,” insisting that “It was a
cardinal mistake to entrust the government of India to the caste Hindu.”
Turning to "the new Viceroy,” Churchill argued:

India is to be subjected not merely to partition, but to fragmenta¬
tion, and to haphazard fragmentation. A time limit is imposed—a
kind of guillotine—which will certainly prevent the full, fair and rea¬
sonable discussion of the great complicated issues that are involved.
These 14 months will not be used for the melting of hearts and the
union of Muslim and Hindu all over India. They will be used in
preparation for civil war; and they will be marked continually by
disorders and disturbances such as are now going on in the great city
of Lahore. 10

Attlee, in a tepid attempt at rebuttal, admitted that “There is gross
Inequality of wealth in India, but unfortunately, that social and economic
system was continued during all the time of our rule. We did not go in for
ibe revolutionary business of turning out the landlords who do nothing
whatever, W<• did something ti> repress the moneylenders, but not much,

NEW DELHI ( 1947 )

We accepted that social and economic system. Why are we told now, at
the very end of our rule, that we must clear up all these things before we
go, otherwise we shall betray our trust? If that trust is there, it ought to
have been fulfilled long ago.” 20 The House of Commons divided late that
night in March strictly along party lines, with a majority of 337 Labourites
closing ranks behind their prime minister and 185 Conservatives walking
the other way with Churchill. Mountbatten with his brilliant staff of experts
were soon to be launched on the fastest mission of major political surgery
ever performed by one nation on the pregnant body politic of another.

Communal rioting in Multan left twenty dead and many more injured,
as Jenkins took direct control of his Punjab province under Section 93 of
the fast-fading Act of 1935. The nawab of Mamdot worked frantically to
put a Muslim League ministry together but could win the support only
of several Scheduled Caste and Indian Christian members of his assembly
as well as three non-League Muslims, to add to his block of eighty party
stalwarts. This left the solid Hindu-Sikh opposition almost equally bal¬
anced against him. Meanwhile, in New Delhi’s interim cabinet, finance
member Liaquat Ali accepted official “advice” and presented a tax-heavy
budget designed to squeeze Indian industrial and commercial capitalists
heavily enough to meet skyrocketing deficits caused by abandoning the salt
tax and by paying retiring service pensions in unprecedented numbers.
Wavell noted to Pethick-Lawrence, “The Budget is a clever one, in that it
drives a wedge between Congress and their rich merchant supporters, like
Birla.” 21

“Amritsar was my main anxiety yesterday,” Jenkins wrote Wavell on
March 7. “By the evening the city was completely out of control. . . . The
death-roll does not seem to be very high, hut the figures we have are only
for the corpses which have passed through the hospital mortuary, Most of
I he population seem to have produced arms . . . many buildings are burn¬
ing. Masses of people . . . running away from the city added to the con¬
fusion and . . . looting . . . Police reinforcements were despatched by
midnight and two British Battalions. . . . Bad rioting is reported from
lUiwalpindi with 25 dead and perhaps 100 injured. Rioting has continued
in Sialkot and Jullundur. These affairs always go through three stages—
frenzy, funk and recrimination. . . .” 22 The frenzy was to continue all year.

The Congress Working Committee met in emergency session on March
M ni id resolved that

The transfer of power, in order to be smooth, should be preceded by
the recognition in practice of the Interim Government ns a Dominion
Government with effective control over the services and udmlnlxlra-
tion Che Central Government muni necessarily function ns n

312

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

313

Cabinet with full authority and responsibility. Any other arrange¬
ment is incompatible with good government and is peculiarly dan¬
gerous.

In this hour when final decisions have to be taken . . . the Working
Committee earnestly call upon all parties and groups ... to discard
violent and coercive methods, and co-operate peacefully. . . . The
end of an era is at hand and a new age will soon begin. Let this
dawn of the new age be ushered in bravely, leaving hates and dis¬
cords in the dead past. 23

When forwarding these Congress resolutions to the viceroy the next day,
Nehru explained “our intention” to urge the Muslim League to join Con¬
gress in the assembly and to work together amicably toward reaching a
final settlement. He added with an almost audible sigh of resignation:

If unfortunately this is not possible, we . . . have also suggested the
division of the Punjab into two parts. This principle would, of course,
apply to Bengal also . . . not pleasant for us to contemplate, but
such a course is preferable to an attempt by either party to impose
its will upon the other. Recent events in the Punjab have demon¬
strated . . . that it is not possible to coerce the non-Muslim minority
in the Province, just as it is not possible or desirable to coerce the
others. ... In the event of the Muslim League not accepting the
Cabinet Delegation’s scheme and not coming into the Constituent
Assembly, the division of Bengal and Punjab becomes inevitable. 24

Congress was now ready to concede Pakistan, including only Muslim-
majority districts, but Pakistan nonetheless! It was early March of 1947.
Jinnah had won. “We have got to stand on our own legs,” Quaid-i-Azam
told Muslim journalists in Bombay on March 12, insisting that “our ideol-
ogy, our goal, our basic and fundamental principles . . . are not only
different from the Hindu organisations but are in conflict. . . . There is no
common ground for co-operation. . . . There was a time when the idea of
Pakistan was laughed at, but let me tell you this there is no other solution
which will do credit and bring honour to our people. . . . Insha Allah
(“God Willing”), we shall have Pakistan.” 25

Communal “tension,” Jenkins reported was “acute in almost all districts”
of the Punjab, with the major cities, Lahore, Amritsar, Multan and Rawal¬
pindi, key “danger points.” But the “trouble” was spreading to villages,
fanning out across the once prosperous countryside like cancerous cells of
fanatical hatred cut loose and growing al so alarming a rule there seemed
to lie no control possible, no inhibiting force available to slop them.

In Ami'll site, Master Turn Singh was reported to have told Ills Sikh lol

NEW DELHI ( 1947 )

lowers that the “Civil War” had “already begun.” 26 Sikh defence member
Baldev Singh wrote Wavell, “I make no secret of my conviction that Mus¬
lim League’s onslaught on the Coalition Ministry had been engineered in
the way it was because the League had despaired of being able to defeat it
by constitutional methods.” 27 There were as yet no firm casualty figures for
the Punjab, but Jenkins estimated that about 1,000 persons had been killed
in the last month of rioting and many multiples of that figure wounded.
The rains would be late that year, but the Punjab’s fields were to be
flooded with blood.

Mountbatten met almost daily with the cabinet in London, seeking an¬
swers to thorny problems from those who had grown old failing to solve
them. His youth was his armor; his innocence of Indian politics garbed him
in hope. He thought, as he informed the cabinet in early March “that the
Indian leaders themselves would sooner or later realise that the retention
of the Indian Army under central control was vital both to the external
security of India and to the maintenance of internal law and order.” 28 He
planned to “warn the Interim Government that he would not allow them
lo use British bayonets to keep law and order, but only to protect British
lives.” That evening they met at 10 Downing Street. The viceroy-designate
needed flying orders, and there were still many “amendments to be con¬
sidered.

Nehru’s old friend, roving ambassador V. K. Krishna Menon, also met
with Mountbatten that March 13, briefing him on the current situation in
India and Congress’s suggested solutions. On the question of Muslim
I -cague demands, Krishna Menon proposed two “Pakistans,” one in the
Northwest, partitioning the Punjab as well as Sind, the other in the North¬
east,

to include the districts of Eastern Bengal which are predominantly
Moslem, and certain areas of Assam, thus partitioning Bengal. . . .

1 believe that partition is the price that will have to be paid for any
stability in Bengal . . . any solution which hands over Calcutta to
Pakistan will be unstable and impractical. ... On the other hand,
tho League has to be given a port on the East, and the solution is
that as part of the compromise settlement India should build a large¬
sized city and port in Chittagong, that is, provide the money for it
however many millions it may cost. 20

(luleiitlu financial Interests thus were prepared to pay for retention of their
mpiliil, mid this formula was ultimately accepted by all parties.

Tens of thousands nl refugees began pouring into Rawalpindi from
iHVuged villages In the countryside "Attacks on non 'Muslims have been

314

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

315

organized with extreme savagery,” Jenkins wired on March 17. “Deputy
Commissioner Rawalpindi believes that in his district alone there may be
5,000 casualties.” 30 As information flowed in from outlying regions of the
Punjab a pattern of “organisation and conspiracy” seemed to emerge, wrote
the governor, “in parts of Rawalpindi outbreaks . . . have occurred almost
simultaneously . . . carefully planned and carried out. All Muslims in the
affected districts seem to be involved in or sympathetic to the movement.
The Commander 7th Division told me when I saw him yesterday that at¬
tacks on non-Muslims had been led in some cases by retired Army officers—
some of them pensioners. . . . The Muslim section of the local notables, to
whom I spoke . . . were extremely sulky . . . non-Muslims are vehemently
bitter against the civil services and particularly against the Police.” 31 The
League’s “Swordam” was being wielded now with a vengeance.

On March 18, Mountbatten received his predeparture orders from the
prime minister:

My colleagues of the Cabinet Mission and I have discussed with you
the general lines of your approach to the problems which will con¬
front you in India. It will, I think be useful to you to have on record
the salient points. ... It is the definite objective of His Majesty’s
Government to obtain a unitary Government for British India and
the Indian States, if possible within the British Commonwealth,
through the medium of a Constituent Assembly . . . and you should
do the utmost in your power to persuade all Parties to work together
to this end. ... If by October 1 you consider that there is no pros¬
pect of reaching a settlement on the basis of a unitary government
. . . you should report to His Majesty’s Government on the steps
which you consider should be taken for the handing over of power
on the due date. . . . You will do your best to persuade the rulers
of any Indian States in which political progress has been slow to
progress rapidly.

It is essential that there should be the fullest co-operation with the
Indian leaders in all steps that are taken as to the withdrawal of
British power so that the process may go forward as smoothly as pos¬
sible. 32

On March 22, 1947, Mountbatten reached New Delhi, where he met with
Wavell.

There was some discussion of the failure of the Indian politicians to
appreciate how little time there was to arrange the transfer of power
before June, I9 IH. and the question was raised whether the partition
of Punjab and Bengal could take place Inside the Cabinet Mission's
plan LOUD MOUNTBATTEN , said lie lliuiiglil there must he

NEW DELHI (1947)

some strong authority to which to hand over in India, and that any
solution must be based on the Indian Army. 33

Wavell quit New Delhi early the next morning but remained viceroy till
he flew out of Karachi the following day. “I went round to Mountbatten’s
suite and had a discussion with the Viceroy designate, clad in his under¬
pants and vest,” press attache Alan Campbell-Johnson recalled. “He showed
me this morning’s masterpiece on the front page of Dawn. It is a photo¬
graph of Ronnie Brockman [of Mountbatten’s staff] and Elizabeth Ward,
Lady Mountbatten’s private secretary, in which they are, of course, de¬
scribed as ‘Lord and Lady Louis arriving.’ ” 34

The nineteenth and last of the British viceroys was sworn in by Lord
Chief Justice Sir Patrick Spens on the morning of March 24, 1947, with a
streamlined version of pomp and panoply for New Delhi’s royal ceremony-
loving audience. Mountbatten delighted his audience by speaking “in an
easy and pleasant manner” for several minutes after his investiture, 35 nod¬
ding to Nehru and the Congress ministers seated to his right, and to Lia-
quat and his League cabinet colleagues on the other side. That afternoon
liO got to work, meeting first with Nehru and then with Liaquat. He had
already written personally to Gandhi and Jinnah asking each of them to
come to New Delhi at their earliest convenience to meet with him. Jinnah
was still recuperating in Bombay.

Nehru had spent some time with the Mountbattens in Malaya during
I lie war and admired Dickie’s natural elegance, unpretentious manner, aris¬
tocratic urbanity, and conviviality. They had “hit it off” beautifully. Mount-
button used Nehru as his primary Indian sounding board for vital informa¬
tion, asking, for example, “his own estimate” of Jinnah.

Nehru said the essential thing to realise about Jinnah is that he is a
man to whom success has come very late in life—at over sixty. Before
that he had not been a major figure in Indian politics . . . was a
successful lawyer, but not an especially good one. . . . The secret of
his success—and it had been tremendous, if only for its emotional in¬
tensity—was in his capacity to take up a permanently negative atti¬
tude. . . . lie knew that Pakistan could never stand up to construc¬
tive criticism, and he had ensured that it should never be subjected
to it. 80

I Ills negative analysis of his leading rival reveals Nehru’s intense hatred of
|iiiniib more than it helps illuminate the true source of Jinnah’s powers.
Mount battens own rather negative assessment of Jinnah was, in some rnea-
<ni<\ probably influenced by Nehru's singular aversion to the (,)nai<l i Azam
anil all ho ropfQIfntod.

316

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

317

The new viceroy next met with Liaquat Ali Khan, whose attempt to
solve India’s economic problem had met with such strong Congress opposi¬
tion that he had finally agreed to cut his proposed excess profits tax from
25 to 16 percent. But Mountbatten did not find Liaquat as intellectually
stimulating or personally appealing as Nehru, and no bond of real intimacy
ever developed between them.

Mountbatten spent over ten hours talking in private with Gandhi at
five separate meetings from March 31 through April 4, during which the
Mahatma proposed that

Mr. Jinnah ... be given the option of forming a Cabinet. ... If
Mr. Jinnah accepted this offer, the Congress would guarantee to co¬
operate freely and sincerely, so long as all the measures that Mr. Jin-
nah’s Cabinet bring forward are in the interests of the Indian people
as a whole . . . sole referee of what is or is not in the interests of
India as a whole will be Lord Mountbatten. . . . Mr. Jinnah must
stipulate, on behalf of the League . . . that, so far as he or they are
concerned, they will do their utmost to preserve peace throughout
India. . . . There shall be no National Guards or any other form of
private army. . . . Within the framework hereof Mr. Jinnah will be
perfectly free to present for acceptance a scheme of Pakistan, even
before the transfer of power, provided, however, that he is success¬
ful in his appeal to reason and not to the force of arms which he ab¬
jures for all time for this purpose. Thus, there will be no compulsion
in this matter over a Province or part thereof. ... If Mr. Jinnah re¬
jects this offer, the same offer to be made mutatis mutandis to Con¬
gress. 87

When Gandhi initially proposed this ingenious formula, Mountbatten
admitted it “staggered me. I asked What would Mr. Jinnah say to such a
proposal? The reply was ‘If you tell him I am the author he will reply
“Wily Gandhi.”’ I [Mountbatten] then remarked ‘And I presume Mr. Jin¬
nah will be right?’ To which he replied with great fervour ‘No, I am en¬
tirely sincere in my suggestion.’” 38 Gandhi’s offer would never be con¬
veyed to Jinnah. Mountbatten opted first to discuss the matter with Nehru,
whose reaction was totally negative. Nehru was shocked to learn that his
Mahatma was quite ready to replace him as premier with the Quaicl-i
Azam. After telling Mountbatten how “unrealistic” Gandhi’s “solution” was,
Jawaharlal said “he was anxious for Mr. Gandhi to stay a few days longer
in Delhi, as he had been away for four months and was rapidly getting
out of touch with events at the Centro”* 10 Nehru and Patel hoped quickly
to bring the unpredictable old man back into "lotieh’* with their conclusion!!

NEW DELHI ( 1947)

on how best to handle Jinnah and the Muslim League. Perhaps even if
Jinnah were offered the entire central government on a platter with the
whole cabinet under his personal control, he might have dismissed it with
a negative wave of his long-fingered hand. Yet it was an exquisite tempta¬
tion to place before him. It was a brilliant solution to India s oldest, tough¬
est, greatest political problem. The Mahatma alone was capable of such
absolute abnegation, such instant reversal of political position. Gandhi un¬
derstood Jinnah well enough, moreover, to know just how potent an appeal
to his ego that sort of singularly generous offer would have been. It might
just have worked; surely this was a King Solomon solution. But Nehru had
tasted the cup of power too long to offer its nectar to any one else—last of
all to that “mediocre lawyer,” the “reactionary-Muslim Baron of Malabar
Mill” as so many good Congress leaders thought of Jinnah. Nehru notified
Mountbatten that the scheme was “quite impracticable . . . even less real¬
istic now than a year ago” when Gandhi had suggested the same idea to
the cabinet mission.

Mountbatten met Jinnah for the first time on April 5, finding him ‘most
frigid, haughty and disdainful.” 40 The only light moment came before dis¬
cussion started, when the cameramen photographed Jinnah with Lord and
I .tidy Mountbatten in the garden, and Mountbatten recalled, “He had ob¬
viously prepared his quip for the press, expecting Edwina to pose between
ns, you see, but when we insisted on having him stand in the middle, his
mind wasn’t quite fast enough to shift gears, so he said what hed re¬
hearsed, ‘A rose between two thorns!”’ 41 Was Jinnah’s mind perhaps work¬
ing a bit faster than Mountbatten suspected? The Mountbattens invited
|lnnah and Fatima to dinner the next evening and the Jinnahs obviously
enjoyed it, staying till well after midnight, by which time “the ice was
really broken.”

Mr. Jinnah claimed that there was only one solution—a “surgical op¬
eration” on India, otherwise India would perish altogether. I replied
by reiterating that I had not yet made up my mind, and pointed out
Hint an “anaesthetic” must precede any “surgical operation.” He gave
mo an account (which worries me a great deal) about his previous
negotiations with Mr. Gandhi. ... He emphasized, and tried to
prove from this account, that on the Muslim side there was only one
man to deni with, namely himself. . . . But the same was not true
of the representatives of Congress—there was no one man to deal
with on I heir side. Mr. Gandhi had openly confessed that he repre¬
sented nobody . . . had enormous authority with no responsibility.
Nehm and Patel represented different points of view within Con-

318

319

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

gress—neither could give a categorical answer on behalf of the party
as a whole. ... He also spoke of the emotionalism of the Congress
leaders. . . . He accused Congress leaders of constantly shifting
their front. . . . They would stoop to anything. ... At the end of
our interview, after he had told me a succession of long stories about
how appallingly the Muslims had been treated, I informed him that
what fascinated me was the way that all the Indian leaders spoke
with such conviction. 42

The conviviality of that intimate dinner party, which obviously loosened
Jinnah’s tongue and “worried” Mountbatten “a great deal,” seems to have
so diminished his confidence in Jinnah that he decided irrevocably against
transmitting Gandhi’s offer, thus shattering the last hope of preserving
Indian unity. Jinnah’s own negative assessment of Gandhi’s powers to
“deliver” Congress contributed, no doubt, to that most tragic decision, yet
fundamentally it was based on Mountbatten’s personal judgment of Jin¬
nah’s state of mind and body, both of which he considered dangerously
and undependably “infirm” after that first marathon meeting. It was not
simply that he did not “like” Jinnah as much as he liked Nehru. It went
deeper. He really did not trust Jinnah’s judgment and appears to have
found those “long stories” symptomatic of senility.

They met again on April 7, with Lord Ismay joining the discussion that
afternoon. Mountbatten “tried by every means” to get Jinnah to say he
“would accept the Cabinet Mission plan and enter the Constituent Assem¬
bly.” 43 Jinnah remained adamant, however.

Next evening they met for two more hours, and Mountbatten explained
his resolve to recommend to the British government how best to transfer
Britain’s power after hearing the views of all major parties. Unlike the
cabinet mission, he did not wait for the parties to reach “agreement” since
the terminal date had been set.

I then asked him what, if he were in my place, his solution would
be; and he repeated once more the demand for Pakistan. ... I in¬
vited Mr. Jinnah to put forward his arguments for partition. He re¬
cited the classic ones. I then pointed out that his remarks applied
also to the partition of the Punjab and Bengal, and that by sheer
logic if I accepted his arguments in the case of India as a whole, I
had also to apply them in the case of these two Provinces . . . he
expressed himself most upset at my trying to give him a “moth
eaten” Pakistan. He said that this demand for partitioning the Punjab
and Bengal was a bluff on the part of Congress to try and frighten
him off Pakistan. lie was not to bo frightened off so easily; and lie
would be sorry if I were taken in by the (longross bluff. 1 ' 1

NEW DELHI ( 1947)

On April 9, Mountbatten and Jinnah talked again for over an hour.
Jinnah insisted that the “Begin all and end all” of Pakistan was to have its
own army.

I told him that I regarded it as a very great tragedy that he should
be trying to force me to give up the idea of a united India. I painted
a picture of the greatness that India could achieve. ... I finally
said that I found that the present Interim Coalition Government was
every day working better and in a more co-operative spirit; and that
it was a day-dream of mine to be able to put the Central Govern¬
ment under the Prime Ministership of Mr. Jinnah himself. . . . Some
35 minutes later, Mr. Jinnah, who had not referred previously to my
personal remark about him, suddenly made a reference out of the
blue to the fact that I had wanted him to be the Prime Minister.
There is no doubt that it had greatly tickled his vanity, and that he
had kept turning over the proposition in his mind.

Mr. Gandhi’s famous scheme may yet go through on the pure vanity
of Mr. Jinnah! Nevertheless he gives me the impression of a man
who has not thought out one single piece of the mechanics of his
own great scheme, and he will have the shock of his life when he
really has to come down to earth and try and make his vague ideal¬
istic proposals work on a concrete basis. 45

And after three more hours alone with Jinnah on April 10, Mountbatten
reported to his staff that he considered “Mr. Jinnah was a psychopathic
cuse.” 46 The viceroy had

brought all possible arguments to bear on Mr. Jinnah but it seemed
that appeals to his reason did not prevail. . , . Mr. Jinnah had not
been able in his presence to adduce one single feasible argument in
favour of Pakistan. In fact he had offered no counter arguments. He
gave the impression that he was not listening, He was impossible to
argue with. . . . He was, whatever was said, intent on his Pakistan—
which could surely only result in doing the Muslims irreparable dam¬
age . . . until he had met Mr. Jinnah he [Mountbatten] had not
thought it possible that a man with such a complete lack of sense of
responsibility could hold the power which he did. 47

iMiuiy expressed his own belief that “the dominating feature in Mr. Jinnah’s
.nliil structure was his loathing and contempt of the Hindus. He appar¬
ently thought that all 11 Indus were sub-human creat ures with whom it was
Impossible for the Muslims to livo.” 4H

All the while eomimmul rioting had continued to rack the Punjab. By
mid April, official cull,mites of Nome 3.500 dead la Hill.ore than a month

320

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

of mayhem counted approximately six Hindus and Sikhs for every Muslim
murdered. "One of my troubles has been the extreme complacency of the
League leaders in the Punjab who say in effect that ‘boys will be boys/”
reported Jenkins, who estimated by then that “Every British official in the
I.C.S. and I.P. in the Punjab, including myself, would be very glad to leave
it tomorrow . . . we feel now that we are dealing with people who are out
to destroy themselves.” 49 The North-West Frontier was also ablaze with at
least half of Dera Ismail Khan razed by “flames” that blood-drenched
spring. Bombay was placed under dusk-to-dawn curfew, as was Benares.
Calcutta, too, simmered in the heat of communal violence, which daily,
grew more intense, fired by rumors of imminent partition.

Chief Minister Suhrawardy hoped to save Bengal the agony of a second
partition in less than half a century by proposing a coalition government
to his Congress and Forward Bloc opponents, advocating independent na¬
tional status for united Bengal. With Bengal enjoying the virtual world
monopoly of jute and having Calcutta’s highly developed international
port, Suhrawardy sought British as well as American capital to develop his
“nation’s” economic potential. “We Bengalis have a common mother tongue
and common economic interests,” Suhrawardy argued. “Bengal has very
little affinity with the Punjab. Bengal will be an independent state and de¬
cide by herself later whether she would link up with Pakistan. 50 Jinnah
would have welcomed the emergence of an independent, united Bengal
with open arms; but Nehru and Patel considered it an anathema to Con¬
gress and Indian interests and feared that a unified “Bangladesh,” led by a
Muslim premier, would form closer alliances to Pakistan than India.

Mountbatten found Liaquat Ali Khan much easier to deal with than
Jinnah in that he was more like Nehru in his urbanity and relative reason¬
ableness. He met with Liaquat for two hours on the evening of April 10,
taking him into confidence, as to

how my mind was beginning to work towards a solution. ... I
started off with Pakistan and complete partition of the Punjab and
Bengal and Assam. I told him that I had no doubt that the Indian
leaders and their peoples were in such an hysterical condition that
they would all gladly agree to my arranging their suicide in this way.

He nodded his head, and said “I am afraid everybody will agree to
such a plan; we are all in such a state.” I told him that the worst ser¬
vice I could do to India, if I were her enemy or completely indiffer¬
ent to her fate, would be to take advantage of this extraordinary
mental condition to force the completes I partition possible upon
them, before going off in June 1048 and leaving the whole country
in the most hopeless elmos,

321

NEW DELHI ( 1947 )

That talk with Liaquat sealed India’s tragic fate. Mountbatten was com¬
pletely sincere in what he said after Liaquat mournfully admitted that even
Jinnah would accept the triple-partition plan, for Mountbatten was wise
enough to anticipate the horrors of slashing a subcontinent so tortured by
religious pluralism into competing national fragments. He understood, in¬
deed too well, the pitfalls and dangers of dividing the army, of withdraw¬
ing the foreign troops and impartial leaders, and of leaving the unlettered,
prejudiced, fearful, superstitious masses to battle it out, to fall onto one
another venting their fears and spleen on neighboring village and urban
ward. He sensed, in fact, that “the worst service I could do to India, if I
were her enemy or completely indifferent to her fate” was precisely what
he would do—just a few months after voicing those dread words. He did
not want to do this. Quite the contrary, of course! He had gone out to save
India, to heal its wounds, to offer peace not the sword of partition. He and
Lady Mountbatten loved India and the Indians. They were ready to risk
their lives—and did so, in fact, daily in the service of these impassioned,
mercurial, mostly impoverished people. But there was no other solution.

Gandhi’s “mad plan,” the only exception, would have meant turning the
very land and all the people Mountbatten loved most in it, including
Nehru, over to Jinnah, whom he considered “psychopathic.” Partition alone
remained the viable option, but Pakistan demanded, by the sheer logic of
its premise, partition of the Punjab and Bengal as well. The best “servant”
Britain ever sent out to India would soon thus find himself obliged to per¬
form “the worst service I could do to India.” And that night after Liaquat
left him, Mountbatten sought some consolation in hope, writing, “I have
mi impression that Mr. Liaquat Ali Khan intends to help me find a more
reasonable solution than this mad Pakistan.” 52

A British journalist who saw Jinnah at this time reported to the vice¬
roy's private secretary his “most disturbed state of mind,” which made
< Icorge Abell advise Mountbatten, “It was possible that Mr. Jinnah was ill
but more probable that he was bewildered by the impact of events.” 53
I Joputy private secretary Ian Scott also got “the impression that Mr. Jin-
i in 1 1 was indeed becoming seriously troubled by the prospect opening out
In •fore him. He felt that this process should be allowed to take its course;
I lin e would be a psychological moment at which to take advantage of it.”
All wishful thinking. None of those “clever” strategies worked.

Krishna Menou continued to keep in touch with Mountbatten, who
I mind lies bud “very shrewd views” on world politics, warning Mountbatten
against America's “object in India . . . to capture all die markets, to step
In and lake the place of die British, and finally . . to get buses in India
lni< ultimate use against Husslii." 11 ' 1 Mountbatten was al least equally

322

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

“shrewd” in return, however, cautioning Nehru’s closest adviser on foreign
affairs that unless India remained in the British Commonwealth, Pakistan,
which was most anxious to do so, might soon build up its armed forces
immensely superior to those of Hindustan . . . and I presumed that places
like Karachi would become big naval and air bases within the British Com¬
monwealth.” Krishna Menon “absolutely shuddered” at that prospect and
promised to do all he could to help convince Nehru and Patel to request
dominion status for India—as in fact they soon did, despite firm previous
Congress commitments that India would become a completely “indepen¬
dent sovereign State.”

Viscountess Edwina Mountbatten tried to befriend Fatima, inviting her
to tea and seeking to “steer the conversation” on such occasions away from
politics, but Fatima always returned to her favorite subject “and made
violent attacks on Congress and the Hindu community as a whole, Lady
Mountbatten reported. “She seemed almost fanatical . . . made frequent
references to the fact that ‘the Muslims would fight for separation and their
rights if these were not agreed to.’ . . . Like Mr. Jinnah, she has, of course,
a persecution mania, and is obviously convinced that the Hindu intends to
subjugate and dominate the Muslim completely.’ 05 Lady Mountbatten tiied
to get Fatima to explain to her how Pakistan “would really work,” but
“Miss Jinnah refused to give any definite answer, saying all the time that
the problems involved would be quite easy once Muslim demands had
been agreed to.”

By the end of April, the Muslim League had a clear majority in the
Punjab, and the nawab of Mamdot demanded that Governor Jenkins call
upon him to form a ministry instead of continuing autocratically to rule
under Section 93 of the 1935 act. Jinnah finally went to Mountbatten to
reiterate that demand, but the viceroy, like his governor, refused to, in¬
stall one-party rule in the Punjab, fearing it would incite “civil war” as
threatened by the Sikhs. During this same interview, the viceroy informed
Jinnah of Suhrawardy’s recently expressed hope that “he might be able to
keep a united Bengal on condition that it joined neither Pakistan nor Hin¬
dustan. I asked Mr. Jinnah straight out what his views were about Bengal
united at the price of its remaining out of Pakistan.”

He said, without any hesitation; “I should be delighted. What is
the use of Bengal without Calcutta; they had much better remain
united and independent; I am sure that they would be on friendly
terms with us.”

I then mentioned that Mr. Suliruwardy had said that il Bengal re
inuined united and independent, they would wish to remain within
the Commonwealth, Mr. Jinnah replied “Of cemse. just as I hull

323

NEW DELHI ( 1947 )

cated to you that Pakistan would wish to remain within the Com¬
monwealth.” I corrected him and said, “No, you told me that if the
Pakistan Government was formed, its first act might well be to ask to
be admitted to membership of the British Commonwealth.” He cor¬
rected me, and said I completely misunderstood the position; it was
not a question of asking to be admitted, it was a question of not be¬
ing kicked out. He said that Mr. Churchill had told him. “You have
only to stand firm and demand your rights not to be expelled from
the British Commonwealth, and you are bound to be accepted. The
country would never stand for the expulsion of loyal members of the
Empire.” 56

Whatever Mountbatten and his staff thought of Jinnah’s mental state, he
clearly retained the unique sharpness of his legal faculties and proved per¬
fectly correct in his brilliant legal opinion of the much confused and be¬
labored issue of commonwealth membership.

“Mr. Jinnah told me that he had asked Sir Stafford Cripps what form
legislation on the transfer of power was likely to take”; Mountbatten con¬
tinued to report on that late April meeting, “could he count on the fact
that it would be in the form that India or parts of India would be granted
the same privilege as other members of the British Commonwealth; i.e.,
the right to secede if they so wished, failing which they would automati¬
cally still be in the Empire. Sir Stafford Cripps replied that he was not in
n position to answer that question at that time. Mr. Jinnah said ‘Thus like a
line lawyer he evaded the question; but it is quite clear to me that you
cannot kick us out; there is no precedent for forcing parts of the Empire to
leave against their will.’” 57 Jinnah could hardly have paid Cripps a higher
compliment, of course, than to call him “a true lawyer.”

Jinnah explained that his reasons for insisting that Pakistan must re¬
main within the British Commonwealth were not merely legalistic, how¬
ever, arguing that “the leaders of Congress are so dishonest, so crooked,
mid so obsessed with the idea of smashing the Muslim League, that there
me no lengths to which they will not go to do so; and the only way of giv¬
ing Pakistan a chance is to make it an independent nation of the British
< Commonwealth, with its own army, and the right to argue cases at any
1 Central Council on this basis.” That was to be his trump card in defence
"I Ins newborn nation, no matter how “moth-eaten” a state it might he.

| innah’s hopes for Bengal remaining united were shared by Liaquat,
" lio informed Sir Eric Mieville “that he was in no way worried about
I lei i gul us lie was convinced in his own mind that the province would never
divide, lie though I it would remain n .separate stale, joining neither Hin¬
dustan nor I’aklNlnii," 1 '" l.luqual also "hinted" lo Mieville 11 ml "them was a

324 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

chance that ‘Sikhistan might join up with Pakistan, and that the Muslim
League would offer them very generous terms.” 59 Jinnah had several secret
meetings with Sikh leaders, including the maharaja of Patiala and Baldev
Singh, and tried to induce them to join Pakistan. Nehru and Patel were in
position to offer more, however, keeping Baldev and his troops, as well as
Master Tara Singh, loyal to India; and Baldev was to retain control over
India’s ministry of defence in Nehru’s cabinet. Jinnah thus tried his utmost
and actually believed till the bitter end that he might be able to avert the
bloody disaster of subdividing both Bengal and the Punjab while extricat¬
ing Pakistan’s Northwestern provinces from the Indian union, thus leaving
a unified Eastern Bangladesh on its own.

“The more I look at the problem in India the more I realise that all this
partition business is sheer madness and is going to reduce the economic
efficiency of the whole country immeasurably,” Mountbatten wrote home
on May 1. “No-one would ever induce me to agree to it were it not for this
fantastic communal madness that has seized everybody and leaves no other
course open . . . one small horrifying example: my wife had Miss Jinnah
to tea again. . . . She told Miss Jinnah that she had spent that morning at
the Lady Irwin College, and was so delighted to find how happily that in¬
stitution was working and on what excellent terms the Hindu and Muslim
girls were. ... To this Miss Jinnah replied: ‘Don’t be misled by the ap¬
parent contentment of the Muslim girls there; we haven’t been able to start
our propaganda in that college yet.’ . . . The Hindus are nearly as bad.

. . . The most we can do ... is to put responsibility for any of these mad
decisions fairly and squarely on the Indian shoulders in the eyes of the
world, for one day they will bitterly regret the decision they are about to
make.” 60

The Mountbattens flew up to Simla for a week’s holiday, taking Nehru
and his daughter, Indira, as house guests. “Having made real friends with
Nehru during his stay here,” Mountbatten wired his chief of staff, Lord
Ismay, “I asked him whether he would look at the London draft [of the
plan for voting on partition], as an act of friendship and on the understand
ing that he would not utilise his prior knowledge or mention to his col¬
leagues that he had seen it. He readily gave this undertaking and took I lie
draft to bed.” 61 Next morning Nehru wrote Mountbatten that the plan lie
had previewed “frightened me . . . much that we had done so far was
undermined and the Cabinet Mission’s scheme and subsequent develop
ments were set aside, and an entirely new picture presented- a picture <>l
fragmentation and conflict and disorder, and . . . of a worsening of rela¬
tions between India and Britain. ... II my reactions were so powerful,
you can well imagine wind my colleagues and others will think and led

NEW DELHI ( 1947 ) 325

... it will be a disaster.” 62 Mountbatten reported Nehru’s “bombshell” to
Ismay, suggesting that in view of this reaction some “redrafting of the plan”
would be required. At this point, Attlee asked Mountbatten to fly home un¬
less he preferred having Cripps, Alexander, or the new secretary of state,
Lord Listowel, fly out to New Delhi to consult with him on the spot. Mount¬
batten chose to go to London.

Before flying from New Delhi in mid-May, Mountbatten showed his re¬
vised proposed plan to Liaquat. “I then asked him whether the Muslim
League was going to accept partition of the Punjab and Bengal, to which
he replied: ‘We shall never agree to it, but you may make us bow to the in¬
evitable.’ I told him it was essential that, if it did become inevitable, all
parties should give their public agreement to avoid bloodshed, and that I
proposed to raise this with Mr. Jinnah.” 63

Jinnah’s reaction to the Mountbatten plan was even more negative than
Nehru’s. “The Muslim League cannot agree to the partition of Bengal and
the Punjab,” Jinnah wrote. “It cannot be justified historically, economically,
geographically,, politically or morally. These provinces have built up their
respective lives for nearly a century . . . and the only ground which is put
forward for the partition is that the areas where the Hindus and Sikhs are
In a majority should be separated from the rest of the provinces . . . the
results will be disastrous for the life of these two provinces and all the com¬
munities concerned ... if you take this decision—which in my opinion
will be a fateful one—Calcutta should not be torn away from the Eastern
Bengal ... if worst comes to worst, Calcutta should be made a free
port.” 64

At 10 Downing Street, on the evening of May 19, 1947, Mountbatten
Informed Prime Minister Attlee and his Cabinet colleagues that “It had
become clear that the Muslim League would resort to arms if Pakistan in
Nome form were not conceded.” 65 Jinnah was interviewed by Reuters the
next day and demanded an 800-mile long “corridor” to link West and East
1'iikistan, promising a “really beneficial” relationship between Pakistan and
Britain, and offering “Hindustan” a “friendly and reciprocal” alliance. 66
< '<ingress reactions to the “corridor” demand proved so strongly negative
1 1 in I it never became a serious issue, receiving even less attention than the
iib n that Calcutta should emerge as a free port. Then Jinnah wired the
• ublnet demanding that before Bengal and the Punjab were partitioned, a
icleronduin should be held in each province to determine the will of its
11 <«>|il«■ in this vital regard. Mountbatten, however, spoke against that pro-
pi rail. insisting it "would merely result in delay.” 117 The cabinet “agreed,”
anil the Imperial steamroller moved ahead in high gear.

Krishna Moqoii Hew to London In Inform Mnimlbatten on May 21 that

326

327

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

Nehru and Patel were “ready to accept” dominion status if it were offered
to India in 1947. “As I am anxious that there should be no misunderstanding,

I am writing to you even though I have seen you this morning!” Nehru’s
confidant wrote Mountbatten from India House that same day. “If Mr. Jin-
nah wants a total separation, and that straight away, and if we agree to it
for the sake of peace and dismember our country, we want to be rid of
him, so far as the affairs of what is left to us of our country are concerned.

I feel sure you will appreciate this, and also that it is not a matter of detail,
but is fundamental.” 68 Congress had begun to fear that in another six
months they would lose the Eastern Punjab and Sikh support, as well as
Calcutta and Western Bengal, possibly more of the princely states also,
especially Hyderabad and Bhopal, for the longer Jinnah argued the stronger
and greater his demands became. Nehru was sick and tired of arguing,
ready, as he put it “privately,” to concede Pakistan on the theory that by
“cutting off the head we will get rid of the headache.” 69

Attlee’s final hurdle remained Churchill and the Conservative opposition
in Parliament, who could easily have held up the Independence of India
Bill in a prolonged and acrimonious Commons debate that would have
made transfer of power in 1947 impossible. Mountbatten went round to
visit “Mr. Churchill in bed” and soothed the ex-prime ministers’ anxieties
and fears with his “fatal” charm. He understood the forensic powers of this
cigar-smoking old man who looked so deceptively frail in his sick bed. I
then asked him if he would advise me how I should proceed if Jinnah was
intransigent,” Mountbatten reported. “He thought about this for a long time
and finally said: To begin with you must threaten. Take away all British
officers. Give them military units without British officers. Make it clear to
them how impossible it would be to run Pakistan without British help.’ ”
Mountbatten “agreed to try and follow some such policy,” but more impor¬
tant he actually managed to get Churchill to give him a “personal message
for Jinnah, stating “This is a matter of life and death for Pakistan, if you
do not accept this offer with both hands.” 70 Churchill’s words carried more
weight with Jinnah than those of any other living person, as Mountbatten
well knew. The final obstacle was now removed from the path to partition,
With Churchill on board, it was “full ahead” for the Mountbatten plan,
which was to bring two “moth-eaten,” wretched, impoverished, embattled,
bitter new dominions into the British Commonwealth.

On Monday morning, June 2, 1947, India’s leaders drove into the North
Court of the viceroy’s house in New Delhi: Liaquat and Nishtar aceoin
panying Jinnah; Patel and J. B. Kripalani (Congress president for the
year), and Bakiev Singh, with Nehru. That mooting, at which those lenders
were briefed on the plan brought hack from Loudon, lasted only two hours,

NEW DELHI ( 1947)

“The atmosphere was tense,” reported Mountbatten, “and I got the feeling
that the less the leaders talked the less the chance of friction and perhaps
the ultimate breakdown of the meeting. ... I reported on the most help¬
ful attitude of His Majesty’s Government and the Opposition. ... I asked
the leaders to let me have their replies before midnight. . . . Jinnah said
he would come in person at 11 p.m. after they had seen their Working
Committee. I kept back Jinnah after the meeting ... to impress on him
that there could not be any question of a ‘No’ from the League.” 71 That
must have been when Mountbatten delivered Churchill’s message. The
viceroy, by now thoroughly disenchanted with Gandhi (possibly thanks to
an undelivered “message” from Churchill), wrote “He may be a saint but
he seems also to be a disciple of Trotsky.” The Mahatma arrived at Mount-
batten’s study door half an hour after the others had gone off to read their
copies of the plan. It was Gandhi s day of silence, so he wrote his comments
on bits of paper. Jinnah had also done some doodling that morning, leaving
a scrap behind that seemed to show rockets, tennis rackets, and balloons
going up and had “Governor General” written in quotes across the center
page—the Quaid-i-Azam apparently enjoying the sight of his future title. 72

At 11 o’clock that night Jinnah came round. He spent half an hour
conveying the protest of his Working Committee against the parti¬
tion of the Provinces. ... I then asked him straight out whether
his Working Committee were going to accept the plan. He replied
that they were “hopeful.” I then asked him whether he intended to
accept it himself, to which he replied that he would support me per¬
sonally and undertook to use his very best endeavours to get the All-
India Muslim League Council to accept. . . , He had called an ur¬
gent meeting next Monday. ... I finally asked him whether he felt
I would be justified in advising the Prime Minister to go ahead and
make the announcement, to which he replied very firmly “Yes.” 73

Mountbatten met to confer with his staff the next morning and reported
1 1 is futile efforts to get Jinnah to accept the plan in writing, but “no amount
of pressure” would make him agree prior to his council’s meeting.

Mountbatten then reminded Jinnah that the Congress Party were
terribly suspicious of this particular tactic, which he always used,
whereby he waited until the Congress Party had made a firm deci¬
sion about some plan, and then left himself the right to make what¬
ever decision suited the Moslem League. . . . Nothing Mountbatten
eon Id say would move him. . . . Tf that is your attitude, then the
lenders of the Congress Party and Sikli.s will refuse final acceptance
nl (lie meeting in (lie morning; ehuos will follow, and you will lose
your Pakistan, probably for good." "Whnt must be, must he/' was his

328 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

only reaction, as he shrugged his shoulders. . . . “Mr. Jinnah! I do
not intend to let you wreck all the work that has gone into this set¬
tlement. Since you will not accept for the Moslem League, I will
speak for them myself. ... I have only one condition, and that is
that when I say at the meeting in the morning, ‘Mr. Jinnah has given
me assurances which I have accepted and which satisfy me, you will
in no circumstances contradict that, and that when I look towards
you, you will nod. . . .” Jinnah s reply to the proposition itself was
to nod. 74

The formal announcement was made on the night of June 3. Bhopal,
Patiala, and the prime ministers of a dozen major princely states joined the
viceroy in his oval office to get their copies of the plan before it was broad¬
cast to the world. At 7:00 p.m. All-India Radio carried the public announce¬
ment made first by the viceroy then followed by separate speeches from
Nehru, Jinnah, and Baldev Singh. The viceroy announced,

On February 20th, 1947, His Majesty’s Government announced their
intention of transferring power ... by June 1948 . . . [we had]
hoped that it would be possible for the major parties to co-operate.

. . . This hope has not been fulfilled . . . the procedure outlined
below embodies the best practical method of ascertaining the wishes
of the people ... to determine the authority or authorities to whom
power should be transferred. 75

Then followed a provincial and district breakdown of “Pakistan” with
specifications as to how legislative assembly referenda would be held to
decide by “a simple majority” for or against “partition,” provincial as well
as national. To “avoid delay,” different provinces or parts of provinces
would “proceed independently,” and the existing constituent assembly as
well as the new constituent assembly (if formed) should “proceed to frame
Constitutions.” These bodies would be “free to frame their own rules.” His
Majesty’s Government were now willing to “anticipate” the June of 1948
deadline and envisioned setting up an independent Indian government “or
governments” by an even earlier date. Accordingly, His Majesty s Govern¬
ment proposed introducing legislation “during the current session for the
transfer of power this year on a Dominion Status basis to one or two suc¬
cessor authorities according to the decisions taken as a result of this an¬
nouncement,” Mountbatten concluded. 76

“I am glad that I am afforded an opportunity to speak to you directly
through this radio from New Delhi,” Jinnah remarked that evening alter
Mountbatten and Nehru had finished their speeches. It is I lie first lime I
believe that a non-oflicial lias been afforded an opportunity to address pen

NEW DELHI ( 1947 ) 32g

pie through the medium of this powerful instrument on political matters.
It augurs well, and I hope that in the future I shall have greater facilities
to enable me to voice my views and opinions which will reach you directly,
life-warm, rather than in the cold print of the newspapers.” 77 How pleased
he must have been, how proud to be seated there addressing millions of
listeners—a veritable viceroy at long last.

Jmnah’s speech had a mollifying impact, and as one “expert” in League
dialectic wishfully put it, “This . . . means peace.” 78 Mountbatten’s press
secretary was, however, more cautiously wise in assessment, noting, “Nehru’s
last words had been ‘Jai Hind,’ Jinnah closed with ‘Pakistan Zindabad’
said in such a clipped voice that some startled listeners thought at first
that . . . [he] pronounced‘Pakistan’s in the bagl”’

On the morning of June 5, Mountbatten met with the political leaders
again round the oval table in his office to discuss the administrative conse¬
quences of partition, using an official brief as their point of departure. “Jin¬
nah was at pains to explain that both States would be independent and
equal in every way. Nehru pointed out that the whole basis of approach
must be different; India was continuing in every way the same, but the fact
I hat dissident Provinces were to be allowed to secede must not interrupt
(lie work of the Government of India or its foreign policy. Feeling was very
tense.” 79

The last meeting of the All-India Muslim League was held in New
Ddhi-s magnificent Imperial Hotel on June 9-10, 1947. Some 425 Muslim
delegates gathered in that ornate grand ballroom overlooking the lush
grounds with their picket of royal palms distancing the hotel from the
spacious Kings Way outside. The hotel was one of those sumptuous islands
ol peace and quiet that long helped British residents in Delhi to survive
with minimal pain. At first it seemed that the League council might also
enjoy the tranquillity of this civilized retreat during its historic delibera-
llons on the Mountbatten plan of partition that hot June day. But not for
lung. Militant Muslim opposition from every province, orthodox mullahs
and mighty landed barons with the most to lose from the Punjab's partition,
ns well as mercantile magnates who hated the thought of giving Calcutta to
llieir Hindu rivals, cried out angrily inside the ballroom against the plan,
nl " ln S il “betrayal,” and a "tragedy for Pakistan,” Khaksars rushed in
diroiigh tile once-tranquil garden, entering the hotel lounge “brandishing
I'rlchas, or sharpened spades . . . shouting 'Get Jinnahl' . . , half-way up
die staircase leading to (lie ballroom where Jinnah and the Council were

. hi session before . . . League Nutioiml Guards could grapple with
II"'"' lln ’l lum II""" hack, II look police with tair-gns to bring (he dis-
liirlmncKi In mi emil. Ml Some filly Klmk.snr would lie ussussliis were iiitcsIccI,

330

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

331

and hotel guests in the lounge “ran helter-skelter,” while those in the “din¬
ing-hall sat down for their dinner with tearful eyes as the tear-gas spread
in the hall. Mr. Jinnah, however, continued the proceedings of the meeting
untrammelled by the disturbances on the ground floor. A few demonstra¬
tors, who found their way into the meeting-hall were soon ejected. On the
top floor of the Hotel, Muslim League National Guards and Khaksar dem¬
onstrators clashed . . . broke furniture and smashed glass panes ... a
few persons sustained injuries,” 81 morning news reported.

Inside the grand ballroom, Jinnah was hailed as “Shahenshah-e-Pakistan”
(literally, “Emperor of Pakistan”) in the Persian style of Iran’s monarch,
but he was quick to disclaim that title, urging his supporters not to repeat
it and insisting, “I am a soldier of Pakistan, not its Emperor.” Though the
council met “in camera,” Vallabhbhai Patel sent a “transcript of shorthand
notes on the proceedings, presumably taken by a Congress spy!” to Mount-
batten soon after the meeting ended. 82 The League’s council gave “full au¬
thority to President Quaid-i-Azam M. A. Jinnah, to accept the fundamental
principles of the Plan as a compromise, and to leave it to him, with full
authority, to work out all the details of the Plan in an equitable and just:
manner. . . .” [Italics added] 83

That League resolution “caused a howl of indignation” from the Con¬
gress press and “violent letters of protest from Nehru and Patel,” who wrote
Mountbatten to express “fears that they would not be able to manage the
All India Congress Committee in view of the failure of the League to make
a definite announcement that they accepted the plan as a settlement /'
[Italics added] 84 Muslim zealots were, however, even more outraged til
how far from the original Pakistan demand Jinnah had gone toward accept¬
ing the plan, and Rahmat Ali’s Pakistan National Movement in Cambridge
now denounced it as “The Greatest Betrayal” to the “whole Millat (Muslim
Community),” writing:

It has now been completely betrayed, bartered, and dismembered by
Mr. Jinnah, whose act of accepting the British Plan shatters the
foundations of all its nations and countries and sabotages the future
of all its 100 million members living in the Continent of Dima . . .
unless nullified, it will forever cripple the life of the Pak Nation,
blight the existence of the Millat in Dima, and compromise the free
dom of the Fraternity throughout the world. . . . We will carry on
the fight to the end. . . . We will never quit or capitulate. ... II
shall never be said of us that, when the time came to choose be
tween the greatest battle for the Millat and (lie greatest betrayal . . .
we too followed the quislings and chose betrayal. . . . Long Live
The Millat f u

NEW DELHI (1947)

The first meeting of the interim government’s cabinet following the an¬
nounced plan almost led to a fight between Nehru and Liaquat over Jawa-
harlal’s appointment of his sister, Madame Pandit, to be an ambassador; at
which point Mountbatten shouted, “Gentlemen, what hopes have we of
getting a peaceable partition if the first discussion leads to such a disgrace¬
ful scene as this?” 86 The answer, of course, was “ None /”

Karachi-"Pakistan Z'mdabad"
( 1947 )

On June 20, 1947, members of the Bengal legislative assembly voted for
partition of their province by a large majority. Three days later the Punjabi
assembly members opted for a similar Caesarian solution to the communal
problem that had burned much of Lahore and Amritsar to the ground.
Sind’s legislature also voted, 33 to 20, to join Pakistan. “Thus we can now
look upon the creation of Pakistan on the 15th August as legally decided
upon,” Mountbatten reported on June 27. 1

Jinnah was invited into the viceroy’s office that day to sit with Nehru
and Patel, as well as Liaquat and Baldev, on a new “partition council,”
which addressed itself to the creation of boundary commissions. Four high
court judges, two chosen by Congress and two by the League were to sit on
each commission for partitioning the Punjab and Bengal. Jinnah suggested
Britain’s distinguished barrister, Sir Cyril Radcliffe, to chair those boundary
commissions. Radcliffe, who had never even visited India and expressed no
known opinions on its problems was unanimously accepted and would soon
decide the destiny of millions of Hindus, Sikhs, and Muslims by the power
of his repeatedly required casting vote. Nehru subsequently expressed grave
misgivings about Radcliffe because of his close Conservative associations,
and he urged that the federal court serve instead as final arbitrator, I mi I
Jinnah was adamantly opposed. Radcliffe reached New Delhi on July 8.
giving him precisely five weeks to draw new national boundaries across
whose lines, bitterly disputed by both countries, approximately 10 million
refugees would run terrified in opposite directions.

Separate committees went to work to partition the army and other t ie
ments of the vast administrative machine that lm<l kept British India run

KARACHI—“PAKISTAN ZINDABAD” (1947) 333

ning for some ninety years. Mountbatten hoped and indeed expected to be
asked to stay on as joint governor-general over both new dominions, at once
symbolizing their friendly and continued cooperation while expediting the
process of the final division of assets in an equitable manner. Jinnah would
hear nothing of that, however, insisting he must become governor-general
of Pakistan himself. Jinnah suspected both Mountbattens of open favoritism
to Congress, knowing how intimate they were with Nehru, and feared that
Pakistan might be compromised or possibly suffer as a stepchild under
Mountbatten. Jinnah was also acutely conscious of the tuberculosis con¬
suming his lungs and knew little time remained to his life. He was eager to
enjoy at least a taste of power, to which he had given so much of his en¬
ergy. As prime minister, however, he would have been saddled with daily
political as well as administrative responsibilities and preferred to leave
those to a younger man. Being governor-general would raise him eye-to-eye
with Mountbatten, Attlee, Smuts, and all the other heads of dominions of
the Commonwealth the world over. It was clearly the only rank worthy of
a Quaid-i-Azam. And it seemed a fitting first and only position for him to
hold in the nation he had sired.

“It will be remembered that I reported to the Cabinet Committee that
Nehru had put in writing a request to me to remain on as the Governor
General of India,” Mountbatten wrote on July 4. “Before I went to London
Jinnah said that although he thought two Governor Generals would be bet¬
ter than one, he asked me specifically to stay on as a Super Governor Gen¬
eral over the other two.” 2 Mountbatten could not get cabinet approval for
that proposal, however; nevertheless he and his staff continued to press
Jinnah for “an answer” to the joint governor-general idea they were all so
anxious to initiate.

India, like Pakistan, depended initially on British officers to head all
three military services, while Field Marshal Auchinleck actually continued
in overall command of both dominion armies for almost half a year follow¬
ing August 15. Nehru, like Jinnah, depended on several British governors,
Inviting Sir John Colville of Bombay and Sir Archibald Nye of Madras to
serve independent India in their same official capacities. Nothing Mount-
I Mitten could say made Jinnah budge from his resolve to take direct control
ill Pakistan. After much soul-searching, considerable misgivings, and fur¬
ther consultation with London, the Mountbattens decided, nonetheless, to
remain in New Delhi for almost another year, as originally planned.

"In moving I lie Third Reading of this Bill” Cripps informed the Com¬
mons on July 15, when he opened the final debate of the Indian Indepen¬
dence Bill, "I am Intmdnelng what will be the Iasi Debate in tills Mouse on

334

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

Indian affairs. . . . This Bill will launch ... a new and, let us hope, a
happier era.” 3 Attlee concluded the debate that passed this historic mea¬
sure, thus setting up two “Independent Dominions” of India and Pakistan
on August 15, 1947. On Friday, July 18, King George VI added his talis-
manic seal of assent to the new act.

Jinnah held a press conference in mid-July and “assured” minorities in
his inchoate dominion that they would have “protection with regard to their
religion, faith, life, property and culture. They would, in all respect, be
citizens of Pakistan without any discrimination. . . . The same principle
. . . would apply to the minorities in India as well. . . . Mr. Jinnah sin¬
cerely hoped that the relations between Pakistan and India would be
friendly and cordial. 4

“I resigned myself fatalistically to the coming disaster,” Penderel Moon
wrote that July. “It was easy to predict disaster but what was the exact
form that it would take? . . . The Senior Superintendent of Police, Delhi
. . . asked for his opinion as to what would happen . . . replied crudely
but tersely: ‘Once a line of division is drawn in the Punjab all Sikhs to the

west of it and all Muslims to the east of it will have their-chopped

off.’ ” 5 Until August 14 thousands of Sikhs and Hindus continued to believe
that Lahore would fall to India, so instead of moving their valuables from
that capital of the Punjab, they left most of what they owned behind when
the boundary line was finally made public, racing east in panic and seeking
only to save their lives. Mountbatten flew to Lahore on Sunday, July 20,
and met with the Punjab partition committee, suggesting that the new gov¬
ernment of east Punjab’s “unessential personnel” all be moved out to Simla
by August 10, but Radcliffe’s final award would remain top secret till the
eve of partition and independence.

In New Delhi the interim coalition government virtually ceased to func¬
tion. Nehru and Liaquat were barely speaking to one another. Separate
provisional administrations for India and Pakistan functioned virtually in¬
dependently during those last frantic weeks when the assets of a subcon¬
tinent were divided in the most hasty, haphazard fashion—much the way a
hostile divorcing couple might of an evening sort out their possessions.
Governor general-designate Jinnah was busy selling his houses, with the
mansion in New Delhi bringing a handsome profit from a Marwari inn'
chant, and the estate atop Malabar Hill in Bombay going to a We.slum
European consulate. Fatima supervised the packing, for all had to be read\
August 7, when the Jinnahs flew off to Karachi to prepare their new man¬
sion for the following week of historic ceremony. Meanwhile, Mountbiilleii
also preoccupied himself with mailers of vilul interest to an admiral ol the
fleet.

335

KARACHI—“PAKISTAN ZINDABAD” (1947)

I got both Jinnah and Nehru to agree that the Navies would fly the
white ensign at the ensign staff and the Dominion Flag at the jack-
staff, and that the Governors General would fly the regular Dominion
Governor General’s Flag, with the King’s crest and the name of the
Dominion. When I showed Jinnah the design of his new flag he an¬
nounced that he had changed his mind and he intended to design his
own flag with his own monogram on it, and he regretted that he
could not allow his ships to fly the white ensign. He was only saved
from being struck by the arrival of the other members of the Parti¬
tion Council at this moment. However, I sent Ismay round to beat
him up as soon as possible, and Jinnah claimed that I must have mis¬
understood him as of course he was keen that the Pakistan Navy
should fly the white ensign, and talked glibly about the “brotherhood
of the seas.” 6

The Mountbattens invited Jinnah and Fatima to dine with them on
Friday, July 25, and as Campbell-Johnson recalled, “It was quite a small
and informal affair, comprising only Plouse guests and some of Mount-
batten’s staff. Jinnah completely monopolised the conversation by cracking
a series of very lengthy and generally unfunny jokes. When Mountbatten
tried to even out the conversation by talking to the guests next to him and
leaving Jinnah to tell one of his stories to Lady Mountbatten, Jinnah broke
off and interrupted across the table with, ‘I think Mountbatten would like
to hear this one.’ It is customary for the Viceroy, representing the King, to
precede his guests to and from the dining-room, but immediately this din¬
ner was over the Jinnahs got up at the same time as Their Excellencies
and walked out with them.” 7 Jinnah, of course, considered himself no less
Ilian Lord Mountbatten at this point, the governor-general of his own
dominion—the first person of Asian birth ever to achieve so exalted a rank
of Commonwealth power.

The rulers of the princely states all knew that by August 15 they had to
accede to one or the other dominion, since British paramountcy and its
protective umbrella would disappear from their lands on that day; yet
11 mny a maharaja, nawab, and nizam found it almost impossible to decide
which way to jump. Bhopal, in Central India, chafed at the bit of integra-
llon into a dominion toward which its nawab felt the strongest personal
antipathy. Kashmir and Hyderabad were to prove the most difficult prob¬
lems. The Hindu maharaja of Kashmir, Mari Singh, refused to join either
dominion, fearing he would bo dethroned by Jinnah for religious reasons,
vet “hating Nehru wilh n biller haired" because 1 of his socialist proclivities
mid demoernlic demands. The ii!/um of Hyderabad preferred to join Paki¬
stan, li bo was not allowed to remain Independent, lull .surrounded as lie

336 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

was by Indian territory and with 85 percent of his state’s population
Hindu, he was forced the following September by “Operation Polo” to in¬
tegrate his domain within the Indian union.

Mahatma Gandhi trekked off to Noakhali in Bengal to seek to calm
communal passions there on the eve of partition, and much to Mountbat-
ten’s delight

Gandhi has announced his decision to spend the rest of his life in
Pakistan looking after the minorities. This will infuriate Jinnah, but
will be a great relief to Congress for, as I have said before, his in¬
fluence is largely negative or even destructive and directed against
the only man who has his feet firmly on the ground, Vallabhbhai
Patel. 8

Jinnah picked Lieutenant-General Sir Frank W. Messervy, the com¬
mander of the northern army of British India, to serve as Pakistan’s first
commander-in-chief, and Messervy submitted a “most disturbing” report
to Mountbatten, warning that the North-West Frontier defence forces
would fall from sixty-seven battalions to forty-five, a number of which
would only be at “half strength,” immediately after August 15, 1947. To
“mitigate the immediate danger,” Messervy suggested re-enlisting “up to
10,000 demobilised Punjabi Mussalman and Pathan infantrymen,” while
warning Afghanistan against seeking any border changes. 9

Jinnah and his sister flew out of New Delhi in the viceroy’s Dakota oil
the morning of August 7. Thousands of admirers were waiting at the air¬
port in Karachi, and cheers of “Pakistan Zindabad” reverberated across the
sands of Sind and echoed over the Arabian Sea. Refugees kept pouring
into Karachi along every road as the provincial port grew overnight into n
national capital with its population doubling within a matter of months.
Throngs of cheering onlookers lined most of the road from the airport to
government house, formerly the residence of the governor of Sind and now
about to become Jinnah’s last bungalow. Walking up the steps of flint
white Victorian mansion, Jinnah turned to naval Lieutenant S. M. Ahsfln,
transferred from Mountbatten’s staff to the Quaid-i-Azam’s, confessing: "Do
you know, I never expected to see Pakistan in my lifetime. We have to bn
very grateful to God for what we have achieved.”

Two days later, Sind’s governor-elect, Sir Ghulam Hidayatullah, jIn*
nah’s old Bombay companion, gave a posh party in honor of his greiit
leader at the elegant Karachi Club, where Jinnah said: “Yes, I am Karachi
born, and it was on the sands of Karachi that I played marbles in my boy
hood. 1 was schooled at Karachi. . . . Pel us tmsl each oilier , , h i us

judge by results, not by (henries, Willi the help of every snellon I see I hut

KARACHI—“PAKISTAN ZINDABAD” (1947) 337

every class is represented in this huge gathering—let us work in double
shift, if necessary, to make the Sovereign State of Pakistan really happy,
really united and really powerful.” 10

Pakistan’s constituent assembly met in Karachi for the first time on Au¬
gust 11 and unanimously elected Jinnah to preside over its meetings, amid
thunderous applause, as its first business. Jinnah took the chair, thanking
the assembled delegates for

the greatest honour that is possible for this Sovereign Assembly to
confer—by electing me as your first President. ... I sincerely hope
that ... we shall make this Constituent Assembly an example to
the world. The Constituent Assembly has got two main functions to
perform. The first is the very onerous and responsible task of framing
our future Constitution of Pakistan and the second of functioning as
a full and complete Sovereign body as the Federal Legislature of
Pakistan. We have to do the best we can. . . . n

Then he seemed suddenly to awaken from a dream, looking around at the
packed and steaming hall filled with eager, perspiring faces all turned to
him for inspiration, orders, instruction on every minute question of how to
build a new state. “You know really that not only we ourselves are wonder¬
ing but, I think, the whole world is wondering at this unprecedented cy¬
clonic revolution which has brought about the plan of creating and estab¬
lishing two independent Sovereign Dominions in this sub-continent. As it
is, it has been unprecedented; there is no parallel in the history of the
world. This mighty sub-continent with all kinds of inhabitants has been
brought under a plan which is titanic, unknown, unparalleled. . . He
could not quite believe it yet. He had won. The highest court had returned
another verdict in his favor —Pakistan was to be born in just a few days.
But i chat exactly was it? And how was it going to work? There had never
been time to consider details, after all, never strength enough, nor help.
Not even time to write out a single speech in advance.

Dealing with our first function in this Assembly, I cannot make
any well-considered pronouncement at this moment, but I shall say
a few things as they occur to me. The first and the foremost thing
that I would like to emphasise is this—remember that you are now a
Sovereign Legislative body and you have got all the powers. It there¬
fore, places on you the gravest responsibility as to how you should
lake your decisions. The first observation that I would like to make
is this. . . . You will no doubt agree with me that the first duty of a
Government is to mutnluln law and order, so that the life property
and religious beliefs of Its subjects are fully protected by the Slate.

The second thing llml oootii'N In me Is tills: One of the lifggost

338

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

curses from which India is suffering ... is bribery and corruption.
That really is a poison. We must put that down with an iron hand
and I hope that you will take adequate measures as soon as it is pos¬
sible. . . . Black-marketing is another curse. ... I know that black-
marketeers are frequently caught and punished. Judicial sentences
are passed or sometimes fines only are imposed. Now you have to
tackle this monster which today is a colossal crime against society,
in our distressed conditions, when we constantly face shortage of
food. ... A citizen who does black-marketing commits, I think, a
greater crime than the biggest and most grievous of crimes. These
black-marketeers are really knowing, intelligent, and ordinarily re¬
sponsible people. ... I think they ought to be very severely pun¬
ished, because they undermine the entire system of control . . . and
cause wholesale starvation and want and even death.

The next thing that strikes me is this: Here again it is a legacy
which has been passed on to us . . . the evil of nepotism and job¬
bery. This evil must be crushed relentlessly. I want to make it quite
clear that I shall never tolerate any kind of jobbery, nepotism or any
influence directly or indirectly brought to bear upon me. ... I
know there are people who do not quite agree with the division of
India and the partition of the Punjab and Bengal. Much has been
said against it, but now that it has been accepted, it is the duty of
everyone of us to loyally abide by it and honourably act according to
the agreement, which is now final and binding on all. But you must
remember, as I have said, that this mighty revolution that has taken
place is unprecedented.

But the question is, whether it was possible or practicable to act
otherwise than what has been done. ... A division had to take
place. On both sides, in Hindustan and Pakistan, there are sections
of people who may not agree with it, who may not like it, but in my
judgement there was no other solution and I am sure future history
will record its verdict in favour of it. And what is more it will be
proved by actual experience as we go on that that was the only solu¬
tion. . . . Any idea of a United India could never have worked and
in my judgement it would have led us to terrific disaster. May be
that view is correct; may be it is not; that remains to be seen. 12

Pie seemed unable to move his mind from that awesome question. Pot
the first time he openly challenged his own judgment, wondering aloud il
it might not have been correct, sensing perhaps that the worst part of llm
dream—the true tragic nightmare of partition was about to begin, the linn I
cane waiting behind this “cyclonic revolution.” “All the .same,'' lie continued
in this uncharacteristic troubled monologue of reflection before the per¬
plexed mullahs, pit's, imwalls, rajas, shahs, and Idians trying to fathom as

KARACHI—“PAKISTAN ZINDABAD” (1947) 339

well as follow his every word, “in this division it was impossible to avoid
the question of minorities being in one Dominion or the other.”

Now that was unavoidable. There is no other solution. Now what
shall we do? Now, if we want to make this great State of Pakistan
happy and prosperous we should wholly and solely concentrate on
the well-being of the people, and especially of the masses and the
poor. If you will work in co-operation, forgetting the past, burying
the hatchet you are bound to succeed. If you change your past and
work together in a spirit that everyone of you, no matter to what
community he belongs, no matter what relations he had with you in
the past, no matter what is his colour, caste or creed, is first, second
and last a citizen of this State with equal rights, privileges and ob¬
ligations, there will be no end to the progress you will make.

I cannot emphasise it too much. We should begin to work in that
spirit and in course of time all these angularities of the majority and
minority communities, the Hindu community and the Muslim com¬
munity—because even as regards Muslims you have Pathans, Punjabis,
Shias, Sunnis and so on and among the Hindus you have Brahmins,
Vashnavas, Khatris, also Bengalees, Madrasis, and so on—will vanish.
Indeed if you ask me this has been the biggest hindrance in the way
of India to attain the freedom and independence and but for this we
would have been free peoples long long ago. 13

What a remarkable reversal it was, as though he had been transformed
overnight once again into the old “Ambassador of Plindu-Muslim Unity”
that Sarojini Naidu loved. His mind was racing too swiftly for logical co¬
herence, almost freely associating as he rambled extemporaneously. Was
it, in fact, over now? Or was it all just about to begin?

You are free; you are free to go to your temples, you are free to go
to your mosques or to any other place of worship in this State of
Pakistan. . . . You may belong to any religion or caste or creed—
that has nothing to do with the business of the State. . . . We are
starting in the days when there is no discrimination, no distinction
between one community and another, no discrimination between one
caste or creed and another. We are starting with this fundamental
principle that we are all citizens and equal citizens of one State. The
people of England in course of time had to face the realities of the
situation and had to discharge the responsibilities and burdens
placed upon thorn by the government. . . . Today, you might say
with justice llmt Unman (Jut holies unci Protestants do not exist; what
exists now Is llmt every limn Is a citizen, an equal citizen of Croat
Britain . . all members of llm Nation, 14

340

341

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

What was he talking about? Had he simply forgotten where he was?
Had the cyclone of events so disoriented him that he was aruging the op¬
position’s brief? Was he pleading for a united India—on the eve of Paki¬
stan—before those hundreds of thousands of terrified innocents were slaugh¬
tered, fleeing their homes, their fields, their ancestral villages and r unnin g
to an eternity of oblivion or a refugee camp in a strange land? “Now,” the
governor-general-designate continued, “I think we should keep in front of
us as our ideal and you will find that in course of time Hindus would cease
to be Hindus and Muslims would cease to be Muslims, not in the religious
sense, because that is the personal faith of each individual, but in the
political sense as citizens of the State. ... I shall always be guided by the
principles of justice and fairplay without any, as is put in the political lan¬
guage, prejudice or ill-will, in other words, partiality or favouritism. My
guiding principle will be justice and complete impartiality, and I am sure
that with your support and co-operation, I can look forward to Pakistan
becoming one of the greatest Nations of the world.” 15

Yet even as he concluded on so optimistic a note, rumor had reached
Liaquat Ali as well as Jinnah that the strategic Muslim-majority Gurdaspur
district of the Punjab, affording the only all-weather road access to Kashmir,
was going to be awarded to East Punjab by Radcliffe. Liaquat warned
Ismay that such a “political” decision would be viewed by Muslims as “so
grave a breach of faith as to imperil future friendly relations between
Pakistan and the British.” 16 Mountbatten insisted, however, that he had
“resolutely” kept himself “out of the whole business” of the boundary com¬
mission and had not so much as seen the final maps, which were only
brought to his office by Radcliffe after he and his wife had flown from
Delhi to Karachi on August 13 to help celebrate the formal transfer of
power there by conveying His Majesty’s as well as his own official greetings
to the new Dominion.

Jinnah and Fatima awaited the Mountbattens not at Karachi airport but
inside the entrance hall of government house, “which had been decked up
to look just like a Hollywood film-set, and all four were subjected to tak¬
ings and re-takings under the dazzling light and sizzling heat of the arc-
lamps.” 17 Jinnah remained strangely “aloof” at the banquet which he hosted
for the Mountbattens there that night. Liaquat and the other League lead¬
ers who had listened to his disjointed ramblings before the constituent as¬
sembly then insisted that he read from a prepared text, since the entire
diplomatic corps as well as world press would he represented in the ban¬
quet hall. He rose to adjust his monocle to his eye, unfolding the text, read
ing softly, slowly, "Your Excellency, Your Highness, and Ladies and Gen

KARACHI—“PAKISTAN ZINDABAD” ( 1947 )

tlemen, I have great pleasure in proposing a toast to His Majesty the
King.” 18 The words had been fashioned for him by the best of his bright
young clerks. Nothing of this toast was Jinnah’s—only the frail voice that
read it aloud in such perfect upper-class English accent. “Here I would like
to say, Your Excellency Lord Mountbatten, how much we appreciate your
having carried out whole-heartedly the policy and the principle that was
laid down by the plan of 3rd June. . . . Pakistan and Hindustan will al¬
ways remember you. . . .” Perhaps he did inject the word “Hindustan,” in¬
sisting upon using it, as so many of his followers would do, feeling it a
more appropriate appellation for Pakistan’s neighbor than “India,” which
was, after all, just an English corruption of the name of Pakistan’s major
river artery, the Indus.

Mountbatten sat at dinner between Miss Jinnah and Begum Liaquat Ali
Khan and reported, “They both pulled my leg about the midnight cere¬
monies in Delhi saying that it was astounding that a responsible Govern¬
ment could be guided by astrologers. ... I refrained from retorting that
the whole Karachi programme had had to be changed because Jinnah had
forgotten that it was Ramazan and had had to change the lunch party he
had himself suggested to a dinner party.” 19

Next morning the Jinnahs drove from the government house to the
legislative assembly hall along a carefully guarded route, lined with sol¬
diers as well as police alerted to watch for possible assassins, since reports
of a Sikh plan to assassinate Jinnah on the day Pakistan was born had
reached Mountbatten and Jinnah several days earlier. But only shouts of
“Pakistan Zindabad” and “Quaid-i-Azam Zindabad” were hurled at his car¬
riage. The Mountbattens followed in a separate carriage, and inside the
crowded semicircular chamber of Pakistan’s parliament, which had been
Sind’s legislative assembly. Lord Mountbatten graciously felicitated Jinnah
and read the message from his cousin, King George, welcoming Pakistan
into the Commonwealth. Jinnah replied, reading again from the carefully
hammered out words of a text prepared by his staff.

Your Excellency, I thank His Majesty on behalf of the Pakistan Con¬
stituent Assembly and myself. I once more thank you and Lady
Mountbatten for your kindness and good wishes. Yes, we are parting
as friends . . . and I assure you that we shall not be wanting in
friendly spirit with our neighbours and with all nations of the world. 20

'Lady Mountbatten pressed Miss Jlnnah’s hand affectionately as Jinnah sat
down lifter giving his address," a witness reported. II Jinnahs personality
Is cold and remote. il also has a magnetic quality the sense of leadership is

342

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

almost overpowering. . . . Here indeed is Pakistan’s King Emperor, Arch¬
bishop of Canterbury, Speaker and Prime Minister concentrated into one
formidable Quaid-e-Azam.” 21

Mountbatten was still worried about a possible assassination attempt
and feared that if it was going to be tried against Jinnah, then was the time
when he, as governor-general, should be driven back to the government
house in an open carriage. “It occurred to me that the best way for me to
protect him would be to insist on our riding in the same carriage, you see,”
Mountbatten recalled, smiling. “I knew that no one in that crowd would
want to risk shooting me! And luckily it worked beautifully, but such was
Jinnah’s vanity, you know, that no sooner did we get inside the gates of
Government House than he tapped my knee and said, ‘Thank God I was
able to bring you back alive!’ ” 22

The Mountbattens flew to New Delhi that afternoon for another round
of gala independence celebrations at India’s constituent assembly and Red
Fort, where the tricolor of India’s dominion was raised at midnight. “Long
years ago we made a tryst with destiny,” Nehru informed his nation, “and
now the time comes when we shall redeem our pledge. ... At the stroke
of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will wake to life and
freedom. A moment comes, which comes but rarely in history, when we
step out from the old to the new, when an age ends, and when the soul of
a nation, long suppressed, finds utterance.” 23

The next morning Radcliffe’s “awards” were revealed, and all celebra¬
tion ended; then the slaughter began. In and around Amritsar bands of
armed Sikhs killed every Muslim they could find, while in and around
Lahore, Muslim gangs—many of them “police”—sharpened their knives and
emptied their guns at Hindus and Sikhs. Entire trainloads of refugees were
gutted and turned into rolling coffins, funeral pyres on wheels, food for
bloated vultures who darkened the skies over the Punjab and were sated
with more flesh and blood in those final weeks of August than their ances¬
tors had enjoyed in a century.

In Bengal, Gandhi fasted on Independence Day, knowing how many
were condemned to premature death by that double-dominion birthday. In
Galcutta all businesses closed in terror for two days, August 15-16; the lut
ter deemed so “inauspicious” by Hindu astrologers that no religious Brah
man dared to leave the safety of his home. The Mahasahha raised black
flags in opposition to partition, the vivisection of Mother India, Akl until
Hindustan. Calcutta Muslims fled, shrank, and hid in panic, "crowding In
gether for sanctuary in certain predominantly Muslim areas ol the city/
General Tulcer reported, "descried, Icadei'less, depressed and on the defen

KARACHI—“PAKISTAN ZINDABAD” (1947)

sive.” Sanity was restored to that premier city of eastern India only after
Gandhi undertook a fast-unto-death to help stop the killing of innocents.

The austere Muslim month of Ramazan ended on August 18, and Jinnah
broadcast an Id day message to his nation, announcing that

This day of rejoicing throughout the Muslim world so aptly comes
immediately in the wake of our national State being established, and
therefore, it is a matter of special significance and happiness to us
all. ... I fervently pray that God Almighty make us all worthy of
our past and hoary history and give us strength to make Pakistan
truly a great nation amongst all the nations of the world. No doubt
we have achieved Pakistan but that is only yet the beginning of an
end. Great responsibilities have come to us, and equally great should
he our determination and endeavour to discharge them. 24

But the strength had gone out of him. He could carry on only after longei
and longer interludes of rest in his lonely west wing of the government
house, where only Fatima, the secretaries, and servants were permitted.
Fatima saw it most clearly. She alone was close enough to see that

even in his hour of triumph the Quaid-e-Azam was gravely ill. ... I
watched with sorrow and pain. He had little or no appetite and had
even lost his ability to will himself to sleep. All this coincided with
reports from both sides of the border of harrowing tales of massacre,
rape, arson and looting. He began his day discussing these mass kill¬
ings with me at breakfast and his handkerchief furtively often went
to his moist eyes. ...

The Constitution had to be framed, and he applied his mind to
this as often as he could. . . . He worked in a frenzy to consolidate
Pakistan. And, of course, he totally neglected his health, and his
coughing and slight temperature were beginning to worry me more
and more. At my insistence, he agreed to be examined by Colonel
Rahman, his personal physician, who diagnosed a slight attack of
malaria. The Quaid, who had an aversion to medicine, said . . . “I
don’t have malaria. I am just run down. Asked to rest, he replied
flatly, “I have too much to do.” 25

He did not, in fact, have malaria. He had consumption, soon to be com¬
pounded by cancer of the lungs.

In Karachi his working day usually started at 8:30 a.m. when he seated
himself behind the large table on which his papers were stacked, with his
"tin of Craven ‘A’ cigarettes” always at bis finger tips and his box of “high
quality Cuban cigars, the aroma of which also pervaded the room, Jin-
uali's aide decamp. Brigadier llumilii weal led

344

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

Jinnah’s frugality had been, of course, well known, but since the birth
of Pakistan he had better reason perhaps than ever to guard each rupee,
for he found, as he told Begum Shah Nawaz, “only twenty crores [200 mil¬
lion] rupees in the treasury and nearly rupees forty crores of bills lying on
the table.” 26 Nor was India willing to part with substantial funds vouch¬
safed to Pakistan by the formula agreed upon for sharing all pre-partition
assets of the British raj. Patel and Baldev were specially loathe to “arm”
Pakistan with the wherewithal to fight India—whether in the Punjab, Sind,
Kashmir, or Bengal.

Jinnah knew how precarious Pakistan’s position, like his own health was,
and issued a statement to the press on August 24, 1947, urging calm in the
face of the “grave unrest” created by the daily news of the “outrages” per¬
petrated against Muslims in India’s East Punjab. He assured his people that
Pakistan was doing all in its power to “give succour and relief to the vic¬
tims” and to help evacuate Muslims from terrorized districts and States.

In the last week of August, the Mayor of Karachi and his councillors
presented an “address of welcome” on vellum encased in silver to their
Quaid-i-Azam, who responded in the old Municipal Corporation Building
near his birthplace. Jinnah said how proud he was that people in Karachi
“have kept their heads cool and lived amicably” amidst so much “distur¬
bance” in other parts of the subcontinent. Bureaucrats, refugees, workers,
merchants and their businesses and capital flowed into Karachi from every
direction, by sea and air as well as along dusty roads. Property values
soared, goods and services were in such demand that prices skyrocketed.
For Jinnah’s hometown, the boom was of magnificent proportions, and even
as the Punjab withered and writhed in post-partition torment and pain,
Sind began to blossom with Karachi itself in the vanguard of growth and
development. Pakistan’s entire navy, consisting initially of a single frigate
and a few minesweepers and smaller craft, was based at Karachi, for Chit¬
tagong was still a village lit by kerosene lanterns, a “port” with dock space
only for two ships at a time, at the landing of the British Club in East
Bengal, the one building as yet capable of generating its own electricity.

Even as remoteness from the Punjab border offered Karachi breathing
space in which to prosper, proximity left Lahore a shambles, the target of
endless streams of destitute refugees, much as Amritsar and Delhi then
became. The sick and dying brought every need, demand, and physical
blight with their battered bodies to a city whose housing shortage had been
tripled by arson and whose water supply was infested with the worst dls
eases of dead and disintegrating corpses thrown into its arteries, Its spri
cions mosques and once beautiful Mughal gardens were turned Into
crowded camps for Muslim refugees fleeing Sikh persecution, Mitch to

345

KARACHI—“PAKISTAN ZINDABAD” ( 1947 )

“everyone’s surprise” 27 Jinnah attended a Joint Indo-Pak Defence Council
meeting chaired in Lahore by Mountbatten at the end of August. His doc¬
tor’s orders and fever notwithstanding, the Quaid-i-Azam flew into the
Punjabi capital to see for himself how much dreadful damage had been
done since his last visit. Governor Sir Francis Mudie, formerly the governor
of Sind, had been appointed by Jinnah to replace Sir Evan Jenkins on the
eve of independence. Jinnah liked Mudie and lived with him in Lahore.

Jinnah insisted on dismantling the Punjab Boundary Force that Mount-
batten had created a month earlier, which had proved virtually useless in
the face of the tragic events that ensued. He preferred to have the Muslim
troops of that 50,000-man unit back inside Pakistan’s borders, should they
be required elsewhere in the near future. Kashmir still hoped to remain
independent, its vacillating maharaja playing a waiting game that was to
prove tragically expensive to his 3 million voiceless subjects, 75 percent of
whom were Muslim. Plyderabad had also refused to join India, and Con¬
gress “intelligence” reported early in September that the nizam’s govern¬
ment was trying to purchase “armaments in Czechoslovakia and in general
to build up its sepai-ate sovereignty.” 28 Whether or not that information was
accurate, Jinnah hoped to bring the nizam into close alliance with, if not
actually under the sovereignty of, Pakistan.

Hyderabad financier and later prime minister, Mir Laik Ali, Jinnah’s most
intimate disciple in the nizam’s inner circle, recalled:

On more than one occasion we discussed the Pakistan Plan . . . and
what would happen to the rest of the Muslims and the Muslim
States, particularly the State of Hyderabad. One evening, early in
September [1947], I received a long-distance call from Karachi . . .
the Governor-General. . . . He . . . told me that the first delega¬
tion of Pakistan to the United Nations would be leaving shortly for
Lake Success and he had included me. ... I mildly protested that
I . . . was too involved in my affairs and suggested that it would be
more appropriate if some one from Pakistan takes my place. . . .

I met Mr. Jinnah in Karachi, he at the very start elaborated that
Pakistan . . . was in urgent need of finances. ... He was aware of
my personal contacts with the financial circles ... in the USA and
some parts of Europe. . . . He said Pakistan would accept any rea¬
sonable terms and offer “ quid pro quo ” short of affecting its hard
earned sovereignty . . . when I returned towards the end of Octo¬
ber, I . . . managed to journey to Lahore, and saw him ailing in
bed. The doctors had forbidden visitors but f was allowed to meet
him lor no more limn half an hour. I briefly reported the situation to
Mr, Jliimih. , . PaklNliui was faced with another serious Situation
India Imil withheld (he agreed share of . UeHerve Bank's

346

347

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

cash balances amounting to some Rs. 55 crore. There was hardly any
money to meet the day-to-day expenses and the position was really
critical. India . . . believed that this very first blow would finish
Pakistan. Could Hyderabad state or the Nizam advance adequate
loan to Pakistan to tide over the crisis?

. . . Never in my life had I seen Mr. Jinnah emotional except on
that day. He asked me if I had seen the . . . refugees as I drove
from the airport. ... I had of course. Tears rolled down his cheeks
several times as he spoke of the mass human misery. . . . Soon after
that the Nizam sanctioned a loan of Rs. 20 crore to Pakistan. Mr.
Jinnah lost no time in publicly announcing that Pakistan had re¬
ceived a loan of that sum from Hyderabad and . . . had no further
financial problems . . . the leaders of India were just wild and
furious over it. 29

Jinnah had also sent Ispahani to the United States as Pakistan’s am¬
bassador and deputy leader of the UN delegation, which future foreign
minister Sir Mohammed Zafrullah Khan led. Ispahani purchased a build¬
ing in Washington for $150,000 to serve as Pakistan’s “Chancery” and
wrote Jinnah from New York in mid-September to report having

met the top executives of General Motors Company who have taken
prompt note of your requirement of a Cadillac super-limousine. . . .
General Motors has assured me that arrangements would be made
for the delivery of the car at Karachi as soon as possible, and will
override all other prior bookings. ... In regard to the special aero¬
plane, my friends and I have contacted some leading manufactur¬
ers. ... I hope you are keeping good health. 30

The super-limousine cost $6,000 and was “cavern green.” A converted B-23
Beechcraft was to cost more than the embassy building, so Jinnah decided
on a Vickers Armstrong instead, the price of which was “not unreason¬
able.” 31

Jinnah ordered Liaquat to move his cabinet secretariat to Lahore in
September and joined him there the following month, as relations with
India deteriorated to the point of virtual “war.” 32 Armed “convoys” of
Muslim refugees leaving India could pass through hostile Sikh territory
only with special instructions from Nehru and official Indian “escorts.”
Ismay flew to Karachi in mid-September to meet with Jinnah for no less
than eleven hours during his two-day visit, reporting himself to have horn
“the first guest at Government House since the 15th August.” winning over
Jinnah enough to he called "u good fellow" by the (,)uul«l i Azam to Ills

KARACHI—“PAKISTAN ZINDABAD” (1947)

face. 33 But the more disturbing part of Ismay’s report to his chief was that
“Jinnah was full of wrath against Congress, saying that he could never
understand these men’s hatreds and was now beginning to feel that there
was no alternative but to fight it out.”

The Muslim nawab of Junagadh, a small princely state on the coast of
Kathiawar, acceded to Pakistan that September, though his domain was
surrounded by India and the vast majority of his state’s population was
Hindu. The apolitical nawab’s shrewd diwan was Sindi landowner Sir
Shah Nawaz Bhutto (the enterprising father of Pakistan’s late prime min¬
ister, Zulfi Bhutto), who drafted the documents of accession and personally
delivered them to Jinnah. Nehru and Patel were outraged when they
learned of Junagadh’s “treachery” and delayed martial invasion only till
November, driving Muslim courtiers like the Bhuttos to sail from Veraval
port to Karachi, with their treasure and talents placed at Pakistan’s service.

Before the end of September, Jinnah appealed directly to his Common¬
wealth colleagues for help in Pakistan’s tragic disputes with its closest
neighbor. The flood of refugees continued to deluge the Punjab, and each
new arrival brought blood-curdling tales of tragedy that fired the hatred
of Muslims throughout the Northwest, leading many to cry out for revenge
against the “infidels,” igniting passions with pain, stimulating pressures for
retaliation, and drowning caution in an ocean of bitter fury. Sir Archibald
Carter, permanent undersecretary of the Commonwealth Relations Office,
visited Karachi at this time, and London became more conscious of the
urgency of Pakistan’s plight and the potential imminence of Indo-Pak war.
Liaquat flew to Delhi and remained for several nights as Mountbatten’s
guest in the government house, portentously warning Ismay before he flew
back to Lahore, “Let India go ahead and commit an act of war, and see
what happens.” 34 Ismay understood Liaquat’s thinly-veiled threat as ap¬
parently aimed at Kashmir. Mountbatten’s chief-of-staff returned to London
in early October, putting up overnight again with Jinnah in Karachi, on
()ctober 2, Gandhi’s seventy-eighth birthday.

The procrastinating maharaja of Kashmir, Sir Hari Singh, signed a
“standstill agreement” with Pakistan that permitted petrol supplies and
other vital needs of that northernmost state of South Asia to continue flow¬
ing over the Pakistan roads that served as its major highways to the world.
I lari Singh knew that time was running out. Muslim peasants in Kashmir’s
southern province of Pooneh were the first to revolt. That September and
curly October, neighboring Pakistani Muslims crossed the Pooneh border
lo help their eo-rcligionists fight nguinsl the maharaja's forces sent to pul-
down the rcvull, By jnld-Oeloher Pakistan slopped all shipments of vital

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

supplies to Kashmir. New Delhi then “decided to step into the breach and
try to send such things as salt, kerosene and sugar” to “blockaded” Srina¬
gar. 35

On October 23, British trucks and jeeps of the Pakistan army loaded
with some 5,000 armed Pathan Afridi, Waziri, and Mahsud tribesmen of
the North-West Frontier crossed the Kashmir border and headed east
along the Muzaffarabad-Baramula road that led to Srinagar itself. That “in¬
vasion’ of Kashmir from Pakistan would long be called by Pakistan a
purely “volunteer” action undertaken “spontaneously” by irate “tribals”
rushing to the aid of oppressed Muslim brothers. But the trucks, petrol, and
drivers were hardly standard tribal equipment, and British officers as well
as Pakistani officials all along the northern Pakistan route they traversed
knew and supported, even if they did not actually organize or instigate,
that violent October operation by which Pakistan seems to have hoped to
trigger the integration of Kashmir into the nation, whose acrostic name
gave its K central prominence. Reports of the raiders burning and seizing
Muzaffarabad reached New Delhi unofficially on the night of October 24,
and the next morning, Pakistan army headquarters officially informed New
Delhi’s sister-dominion command that “tribal volunteers” had “entered”
Kashmir, Their advance guard . . . only 35 to 40 miles from Srinagar.” 30
Mountbatten summoned an emergency meeting of the Indian Defence
Committee that Saturday morning, and they agreed to assemble all the
arms and aircraft they could find for possible immediate despatch to Srina¬
gar. V. P. Menon was sent flying over Himalayan heights to see if he could
convince Hari Singh to sign an accession agreement at this point. Menon
returned early Sunday morning, October 26, to report to Mountbatten,
Nehru, and Patel that the maharaja “had gone to pieces completely” and
could ‘come to no decision.” His state’s prime minister, M. C. Mahajan
(later chief justice of India), however, proved “receptive” to Menon’s mis¬
sion and returned with him to New Delhi, where he met with Nehru and
Patel.

“I requested immediate military aid on any terms,” Mahajan recalled,
urging Nehru to “Give us the military force we need. Take the accession
and give whatever power you desire to the popular party. The army mi is I
fly to save Srinagar this evening or else I will go to Lahore and negotiate
terms with Mr. Jinnah.” 87 Mahajan reported that Nehru “became up,so I”
and “angry” at the mention of Jinnah’,s name and ordered him "away," Iml
Patel detained him, whispering “Of course, Mahajan, you are not going lo
Pakistan.” Then Sheikh Abdullah, who appears to have been ''listening"
from an adjoining bedroom in Nehru's Delhi house, sent in a "message" In
.second Mahajnn's advice, which instantly changed Nehru's "allilmle."

KARACHI—“PAKISTAN ZINDABAD” (1947) 349

The next morning the defence council met and decided to airlift the
First Sikh Battalion from New Delhi to Srinagar. “In the early hours of the
morning of the 27th,” Mahajan wrote, “I could hear the noise of the planes
flying over Sardar Baldev Singh’s house [where Mahajan spent the night]
and carrying the military personnel to Srinagar. At about 9 a.m. I got a
message from . . . Srinagar that troops had landed there and had gone
into action. On receipt of this message, I flew to Jammu with Mr. V. P.
Menon. . . . Mr. Menon and myself met His Highness [Hari Singh had
driven down from Srinagar the previous night to his Winter capital] at the
palace. . . . After some discussion, formal documents were signed which
Mr. Menon took back to New Delhi. ... I stayed at Jammu. This was a
narrow shave.”

Mahajan’s autobiographical account of this most important sequence of
events is at critical variance with previous reports published by V. P.
Menon and others close to Nehru and Patel and associated with the Gov¬
ernment of India at the time. Menon insists that Kashmir’s “instrument of
accession” was signed and delivered to New Delhi before any Indian troops
were flown into action in Srinagar; 38 Mahajan reports the reverse. The
actual sequence is of more than academic interest, since India’s claim to
Kashmir was, in legal terms, based on having secured a legitimate instru¬
ment of accession prior to airlifting any troops into the Vale. Mountbatten,
of course, understood that “the risk of Pakistan also sending troops would
be considerable.” and if that occurred then two Commonwealth armies,
each trained and led by British commanding officers, would have had for
the first time in history to face one another on the field of battle. It would
have been so ignominious, so utterly intolerable a conclusion to his “last
Chukka in India,” 39 that Mountbatten had to move heaven and earth to
avoid so tragic a denouement. He had, in fact, assembled over a hundred
transport planes, civil as well as military, at Delhi’s airport with less than a
day’s notice, and packed India’s best Sikh regiment inside those planes,
fueled up and kept ready to take off before dawn on October 27. All that
lie lacked was the signed accession, which would, he rightly reported to his
royal cousin, “fully regularise the position, and reduce the risk of an armed
clash with Pakistan forces to the minimum. I shall relate a little further on
how lucky it was that this accession was accepted.” 40 The crisis situation
Mountbatten faced during that last terrible week in October obviously did
not permit the luxury of holding a plebiscite or referendum. The tribals
were burning, looting, raping, shooting, and within a day’s march of Srina¬
gar where hundreds of thousands of people were virtually unprotected or,
.i*. Mount !>11 Won qtille noeiiriitoly pul il. "lime did not, ol course, permit
the will of the people being a seer tallied llrsl," prior to lifting those guard-

350 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

ian troops over the Himalayan wall that separated Delhi from Srinagar. By
the same token, then, should time permit the indecision of an autocratic
maharaja who had “gone to pieces,” fled Srinagar, and abandoned his own
subjects to a fate worse than death, to stand in the way of their salvation?

“Even after this decision had been reached Lord Mountbatten and the
three British Chiefs of Staff of the Indian Army, Navy and Air Force
pointed out the risks involved in the operation,” V. P. Menon reported.
“But Nehru asserted that the only alternative to sending troops would be
to allow a massacre in Srinagar, which would be followed by a major com¬
munal holocaust in India. Moreover, the British residents in Srinagar would
certainly be murdered by the raiders, since neither the Pakistan Com-
mander-in-Chief nor the Supreme Commander was in a position to safe¬
guard their lives.” 41 What else could Lord Mountbatten possibly have done
in the face of such dire warnings, threats, and advice? To hesitate for even
an hour might have proved fatal to so precarious an operation.

On October 27, as soon as Governor-General Jinnah learned of India’s
airlift to Srinagar, he ordered his “acting” British commander-in-chief
(General Messervy was on leave), General Sir Douglas Gracey, to “move
two brigades of the Pak army into Kashmir . . . one from Rawalpindi and
another from Sialkot. The Sialkot army was to march to Jammu, take the
city and make the Maharaja a prisoner. The Rawalpindi column was to ad¬
vance to Srinagar and capture the city.” 42 Such strategic action could have
secured Kashmir for Pakistan while saving Srinagar from “tribal anarchy.”
General Gracey refused, however, to accept those orders from his gov¬
ernor-general, informing Jinnah that “he was not prepared to issue instruc¬
tions which would inevitably lead to armed conflict between the two
Dominions and the withdrawal of British Officers, without the approval of
the Supreme Commander” [Field Marshal Auchinleck]. 43

Having just flown in from Karachi, Jinnah was in Lahore at this time
and stayed with Mudie, who was “most aggressive and abusive” to Gracey
over the phone, wanting to know “Why the hell Gracey was not carrying
out Mr. Jinnah’s orders. What had it got to do with the Supreme Com
mander? What did it matter if the British Officers were withdrawn? Con III
he not send the troops on without British Officers? Mr, Jinnah insisted on
the orders being issued at once.” Gracey informed Auchinleck the next dn\
that he thought “Mudie had been drinking,” and Mountbatten added in
his report of this unpleasant incident to the King, that Sir Francis had
apparently “lived up to his reputation.” General Gracey informed Field
Marshal Auchinleck from Rawalpindi by phono at 1:00 a.m. on Oelobri
27-28 that ho had "received orders from Jinnnb which il obeyed would
entail issue 'Stand Down' ordn. " AiichlnlnK wired Ills cliliT, of slull In

KARACHI—“PAKISTAN ZINDABAD” (1947) 351

London on October 28. A “stand down” order meant the automatic with¬
drawal of all British officers from a dominion army.

The “Auk” flew into Lahore from Delhi that fateful morning of October
28 and was met at the airport by Gracey, who stated that the orders Gracey
had not obeyed were nonetheless issued to Pakistani troops “to seize
Baramula and Srinagar also Banihal Pass and to send troops into Mirpur
district of Jammu.” 45 The supreme commander and General Gracey went
to confront Jinnah immediately to explain the “situation vis-a-vis British
officers very clearly,” Auchinleck reported to London. “Gracey also empha¬
sized military weakness of Pakistan while I pointed out incalculable conse¬
quences of military violation of what now is territory of Indian Union in
consequence of Kashmir’s sudden accession.” “His approach to Jinnah,”
Mountbatten reported of Auchinleck’s crucial confrontation in Lahore,
“was based on the fact that India’s acceptance of the accession of Kashmir
was just as legally proper and correct as Pakistan’s acceptance of Juna-
gadh’s accession; that India had a perfect right to send troops to the State
in response to the Maharajah’s request; and on the extreme weakness of
the Pakistan Army, and its virtual uselessness without British Officers.” 46
Jinnah “withdrew orders,” Auchinleck was able to report at the end of his
longest day in India’s service.

Mountbatten and Ismay flew to Lahore without Nehru on November 1,
1947, and met with Liaquat, who was quite sick with an ulcer that morn¬
ing in his bedroom.

He was sitting up with a rug round his knees, looking very ill. . . .

I began by giving Liaquat a copy of a statement which had been
signed by the three India Commanders-in-Chief . . . intended to
dispel the impression, in the minds of the Pakistan Government, that
India had planned the sending of military assistance to Kashmir be¬
fore the tribal invasion began. ... I then went on to explain . . .
the whole position of Junagadh . . . and of Kashmir, as I saw it. I
used the same arguments as I later expanded to Jinnah whom I saw
in the afternoon. The burden of Liaquat’s reply was that the Maha¬
rajah had . . . brought about a serious situation by allowing his
Hindus, and in particular his State forces, to massacre Muslims par¬
ticularly in, and across the border of, Jammu. . . . Liaquat ap¬
peared to be very depressed and almost disinclined to make any
further effort to avoid war. Ismay and I did our best to cheer him
up . . . he . . . bade us a very friendly au revoir. 47

Mounllmllon mill Imiiiiv wenl oil directly to lunch with Jinnnb, and
idler llnlslill ),r, l hell,' food, accompanied I hr (,)imld l-Azarn to IiIn room

352

353

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

and had 3% hours of the most arduous and concentrated conversa¬
tion, of which Kashmir formed the main theme. ... I handed to
Jinnah a further copy of the Chiefs of Staff statement of events . . .
he expressed surprise at the remarkable speed at which we had been
able to organize sending troops into the Srinagar plain. . . . Jin-
nah’s principal complaint was that the Government of India had
failed to give timely information to the Government of Pakistan
about the action they proposed to take in Kashmir. I pointed out, in
reply, that Nehru had telegraphed to Liaquat Ali Khan on the 26th,
immediately the decision to send in troops had been taken. . . .

Ism ay agreed that the Government of Pakistan should have had the
earliest possible notification. ... To the best of his recollection,
Nehru had told him on the 28th that he had kept Liaquat Ali Khan
in touch with what was happening. ... If this had not been done,
the oversight must have been due to the pressure of events, and not
because the Government of India had anything to hide.

Jinnah looked up his files and said that the telegram had arrived
after the troops had landed, and that it did not contain any form of
an appeal for co-operation between the two Dominions in this mat¬
ter; it merely informed him of the accession and the landing of
troops. Continuing, he said that the accession was not a bona fide
one since it rested on “fraud and violence” and would never be ac¬
cepted by Pakistan. I asked him to explain why he used the term
“fraud,” since the Maharajah was fully entitled in accordance with
Pakistan’s own official statement about Junagadh ... to make such
accession. It was therefore perfectly legal and valid. Jinnah said that
this accession was the end of a long intrigue and that it had been
brought about by violence. I countered this by saying that I entirely
agreed that the accession had been brought about by violence; I
knew the Maharajah was most anxious to remain independent, and
nothing but the terror of violence could have made him accede to
either Dominion; . . . the violence had come from tribes for whom
Pakistan was responsible. . . . Jinnah repeatedly made it clear that
in his opinion it was India who had committed this violence by
sending her troops into Srinagar; I countered as often with the
above argument, thereby greatly enraging Jinnah at my apparent
denseness. 48

Jinnah told Mountbatten and Ismay that he had “lost interest in whut the
world thought of him since the British Commonwealth had let him down
when he asked them to come to the rescue of Pakistan.” "At the end Jiinuili
became extremely pessimistic and said il was quite clear that the Demin
ion of India was out to llirollle and choke the Dominion of Pakistan at

KARACHI—“PAKISTAN ZINDABAD” (1947)

birth, and that if they continued with their oppression there would be
nothing for it but to face the consequences ... he was not afraid; for the
situation was already so bad that there was little that could happen to
make it worse. . . . Ismay tried to cheer him up out of his depression but
I fear was not very successful. . . . We parted on good terms.” 49

A mood of lonely resignation and fatalism shrouded Jinnah throughout
the rest of that last bitter year of his life. His hopes of breathing the cool,
healthful air of Srinagar faded with each passing day of prolonged fighting
as more and stronger Indian forces kept flying in to push back the tribals
and regular Pak “volunteers” who managed, without British support, to
hold a line east of Muzaffarabad but would never reach the coveted Vale.
Dark “forces,” both inside and out of Pakistan, were “after” him, seeking to
snuff out his own feeble life and to choke his political offspring. Only a
week earlier, on the eve of his leaving Karachi, “an apparent attempt on
Jinnah’s life” had been made by “Two men with the lower parts of their
faces masked and wearing moon and crescent hats,” who rushed the guard
at the government house, whipped out “revolvers,” and wounded one
police officer before they could be frightened off by his “whistle.” 50 Were
they Khaksars? Or were they a different, still more fanatical, sect of ortho¬
dox Muslims who considered him the “enemy?” While Liaquat nursed his
bleeding ulcer, and Mudie drowned both his sorrows and the Punjab’s
with whiskey and water, Jinnah, longer and longer through every night,
racked his body with coughing and dislodged more blood from his scarred
and tired lungs.

“That freedom can never be attained by a nation without suffering and
sacrifice, has been amply borne out by the recent tragic happenings in this

I sub-continent,” Jinnah told a mass rally of his compatriots from the plat¬
form of Lahore’s University stadium on October 30.

We are in the midst of unparalleled difficulties and untold suffer¬
ings; we have been through dark days of apprehension and an¬
guish. . . . The systematic massacre of defenceless and innocent
people puts to shame even the most heinous atrocities committed by
the worst tyrants known to history. We have been the victims of a
deeply-laid and well-planned conspiracy executed with utter disre¬
gard of the elementary principles of honesty, chivalry and honour.

We thank Providence for giving us courage and faith to fight these
forces of evil. . . . Do not be afraid of death. Our religion teaches
us to be always prepared for death. We should face it bravely to
save the honour of I’akislim and Islam. There is no belter salvation
lor a Muslin i I him the deal h ol n .martyr for u righteous cm iso. 01

354

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

“It was in this speech that I first heard him speak of death,” Fatima re¬
called. “The sufferings of the refugees affected him deeply and he went to
bed again, exhausted and feverish. But files kept pouring in, ministers and
secretaries came to seek his instructions, so peace and rest were impos¬
sible.” 52

Ziarat

( 1948 )

The “all India” Muslim League council met for the last time in Karachi on
December 14-15, 1947. Some 300 members, 160 from India, assembled in
the capital of Pakistan and voted to do to the Muslim League what that
party had been so instrumental in accomplishing throughout British India-
splitting it into “independent and separate” Pakistan and India parties.
Jinnah left his sick bed to preside over this final session of his party’s coun¬
cil; he addressed them in English, and his speech was later translated into
Urdu—Pakistan’s national language—by Sardar Abdur Rab Nishtar, the min¬
ister of communications. “As you know, the Muslim League has achieved
and established Pakistan,” Quaid-i-Azam told them. “The Muslims were a
crowd, they were demoralized, and they had to suffer economically. We
have achieved Pakistan, not for the League, not for any of our colleagues,
but for the masses.” 1

Not everyone was satisfied, however. Maulana Jamal Mian angrily rose
to protest that “Pakistan could hardly take pride in calling itself a ‘Muslim
Slate.’ He found many un-Islamic things in the State from top to bot¬
tom. . . . The behaviour of the Minister is not like that of Muslims. The
poor cannot enter the houses of the Ministers; the needy and the lowly
cannot see them. Only the courtiers can enter, those who possess large
bungalows can enter. The name of Islam has been disgraced enough.” “We
arc only a four-month-old child,” Jinnah responded, feeling not much
'.Irongcr himself. “You know somebody would like to overthrow us. I know
you would say we have not done such and such a thing, but we are only
lour months old.”

hi addition to resolving to divide list'll' and electing Liaquat Ali Khan
"convenor" ol the I'aklslun Muslim Longue, llie Coin id I placed on record

356

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

its deep sense of sorrow and its feelings of horror at the widespread
acts of organized violence and barbarity which have taken place, re¬
sulting in the loss of hundreds of thousands of innocent lives, colos¬
sal destruction of property, wanton outrages against women, and
mass migration of populations, whereby millions of human beings
have been uprooted from their hearths and homes and reduced to
utter destitution.

The Council also views with grave concern the rising tide of com¬
munal antagonism against the Muslim minority in the Indian Union
where, in spite of the repeated declarations by the Congress that
minorities will be dealt with justly and fairly . . . Muslim life and
property continue to be insecure. 2

Liaquat flew to Delhi for a meeting of the Joint Defence Council on
December 22, at which time Nehru handed him a letter charging that the
tribal “raiders” of Kashmir “have free transit through Pakistan. . . . Food
and other supplies are also secured from Pakistan; indeed, we have reli¬
able reports that the raiders get their rations from military messes in
Pakistan.” 3 The government of India demanded an end to all such aid,
access, supplies, and training. Liaquat promised to reply; and on Decem¬
ber 31, when Nehru had as yet received no official response from Pakistan,
India submitted its formal complaint to the UN Security Council, an action
urged by Mountbatten but one which Nehru and his cabinet would long
regret having initiated. India’s complaint requested the security council to
“call upon Pakistan to put an end immediately” to all “assistance” it was
providing frontier tribal invaders of Kashmir, “a State which has acceded
to the Dominion of India and is part of India,” or “the Government of
India may be compelled in self-defence, to enter Pakistan territory, in
order to take military action against the invaders.” 4

Pakistan replied to India’s complaint on January 15, 1948, and in n
sound legal fashion, Prime Minister Liaquat Ali Khan cross-complained,
Liaquat’s first brief argued: “the Pakistan Government emphatically deny
that they are giving aid and assistance to the so-called invaders or have
committed any act of aggression against India.” 5 And “Pakistan’s Complain!
Against India,” filed the same day in the security council, and an even
longer document called “Particulars of Pakistan’s Case” served to place u
number of broader issues and problems still festering between the new¬
born neighbors on the Council’s agenda.

... an extensive campaign of "genocide” directed against (lie Mus¬
lim population of East Punjab, Delhi, Ajmer . . . (etc) was under
taken by the non-Mudim Killers, people, ofUduls. police mid armed

357

ZIARAT ( 1948 )

forces of the States concerned and the Union of India . . . still in
progress . . . large numbers of Muslims—running into hundreds of
thousands—have been ruthlessly massacred, vastly larger numbers
maimed, wounded and injured and over five million . . . driven
from their homes. . . . Brutal and unmentionable crimes have been
committed against women and children. Property worth thousands
of millions of rupees has been destroyed. 6

Concluding its cross-complaint, Pakistan asked the security council to call
upon India to “desist from acts of aggression against Pakistan” and to ap¬
point a commission or commissions of the UN to investigate all of its
“charges” and to arrange for “cessation of fighting in the State of Jammu
and Kashmir” and elsewhere in the subcontinent. A bill of “particulars”
added documentation to support these various charges.

Jinnah had no strength to fly to New York for the UN debate on India
and Pakistan, but foreign minister Sir Mohammed Zafrullah Khan per¬
formed brilliantly as Pakistan’s advocate before the security council; he
was judicious, articulate, and often eloquent in presenting his case while
refuting India’s charges. The security council appointed its commission,
initially of three and later five members, who managed to effect a cease¬
fire by year’s end; but it never won agreement to withdrawal of all the
martial forces that kept pouring into that war-torn State, and it could
never inaugurate a State-wide plebiscite.

“The first World War of 1914-18 was fought to end war,” Jinnah re¬
called on January 23, 1948, launching the PI.M.P.S. Dilatuar (“Sword”),
Pakistan’s first modern destroyer.

This led to the birth of the League of Nations and the idea of col¬
lective security, but the League of Nations proved only a pious
hope. . . . The destruction caused by the first world war pales into
insignificance as compared to the devastation and havoc resulting
from the last world war and now with the discovery of the Atom
Bomb, one shudders to think of the pattern of future wars. . . .
Pakistan must be prepared for all eventualities and dangers. The
weak and the defenceless, in this imperfect world, invite aggression
from others. . . . Pakistan is still in its infancy and so is its Navy.

. . . But this infant means to grow up and God willing will grow up
much sooner than many people think. . . . You will have to make
up for the smallness of your size by your courage and selfless devo¬
tion to duty for it is not life that matters but the courage fortitude
and determination you bring to it, 7

A few days earHer, Mnlmlmii Gandhi won the last of his fasts-unto-
d(Hitli, pommeling India's eublnol In pay lls debl of 55 eroiON of rupees to

358

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

Pakistan, helping to put an end to the slaughter and looting of Muslims in
and around Delhi, which had become so tragic a scandal. Angry Sikhs and
militant Hindus marched round Birla House with black flags, shouting
Let Gandhi die!,” calling him “Mohammad Gandhi,” since he so often
advocated Pakistan’s cause at prayer meetings and read from the Quran .
And on January 20, a bomb exploded in Birla House compound, but
Gandhi had already finished his prayer meeting.

Ten days later, his assassin did not miss. At his last prayer meeting on
January 29, Gandhi said:

If a man was in distress, the key to his happiness lay in labour. God
did not create man to eat, drink and make merry. . . . Millionaires
who ate without work were parasites. Even they should eat by the
sweat of their brow or should go without food. The only permissible
exception was the disabled. . . . Gandhiji then spoke about peas¬
ants. If he had his say, our Governor-General and our Premier would
be drawn from the kisans [peasants]. ... As real producers of
wealth, they were verily the masters while we have enslaved them.
... It was true, we were all labourers. In honest labour lay our sal¬
vation and the satisfaction of all vital needs. 8

The next evening, before he could reach his prayer platform, Mahatma
Gandhi was shot to death by a hate-crazed Hindu Brahman named Na-
thuram Godse.

“He was one of the greatest men produced by the Hindu community,"
wrote Jinnah, in his brief message of condolence. How ironic it must have
seemed to him that an orthodox Hindu should have killed his most in¬
transigent opponent, believing the Mahatma an “Agent of Pakistan” and
a “Muslim-lover.” Norbert Bogdan, a vice-president of Schroeders’ Bank¬
ing Group in New York, met with Jinnah in Karachi just a few days after
Gandhi’s assassination and reported that “Jinnah” . . . spoke of Gandhi in
much more generous terms than he saw fit to use in his message, acknowl¬
edging . . . how great was the loss for the Moslems. Jinnah added
that . . . the real trouble was with the extremist groups, and he had born
favourably impressed by the Indian Government’s firm handling of these'
following on Gandhi’s assassination.” 9 New Delhi outlawed the Rashtrii/il
Svayam Seva Sangh and Hindu Mahasabha, putting many of their leaden:
under immediate “preventive detention” arrest.

Mir Laik Ali now became premier of Hyderabad, and India's govern
ment was most unsettled by news of the niznni's 20-erorc loan to Pakistan,
Because of that loan, of course, Pakistan remained solvent, and its first
annual budget was presented to Karachi's assembly by finance iiimislcr

359

ZIABAT ( 1948)

Ghulam Mohammed on February 28. Defence expenditure was projected
to be no less than £-27.8 million out of the total estimated expenditure of
only £39.4 million. Revenues were so meager moreover, that a deficit of
£25.1 million was expected. 10 Similarly, the government of India allocated
over 50 percent of its total budget to arms and projected a deficit of some
£20 million. Pakistan did its best to encourage imports from the sterling
bloc and the United States, but because of its minimal industrial develop¬
ment, the continuing influx of refugees, and poor agricultural output in
1948, revenues fell below anticipated totals with its deficits soaring higher.
Ispahani appealed urgently for U.S. support, private as well as public.
General Motors “are interested in installing plants in Pakistan,” Ambassa¬
dor Ispahani reported to his great leader that March, but “threatening war
clouds” over Kashmir kept “holding them back.” 11 The World Bank and
Export Bank were less worried about international instability but required
proper surveys and reports by “first-class concerns” of carefully worked out
“schemes regularly broken down to the minutest items of expenditure and
income” before doling out any loans. Pakistan was as yet unprepared to
present such detailed proposals.

Jinnah himself had no energy left to work on such matters. He could
not even answer Ispahani’s letters anymore. An old Parsi friend from Bom¬
bay visited him in Karachi at this time and found him “dozing” in his
garden at the government house. When Jinnah finally woke up, he whis¬
pered, “I am so tired, Jamshed, so tired.” 12 At seventy-two he had not only
won his greatest suit but had outlived his foremost rival. It was high time
for him to rest, was it not?

Nonetheless, his government insisted that he fly to Dacca that March
to address the majority of Pakistan’s population from their own “group”
soil. He had not even gone to the East, or set foot in Dacca, the second
“capital” of his nation. Great leader that he was, Jinnah answered the call
of his cabinet and addressed a crowd estimated to be over 300,000 in
Dacca’s maidan on March 21, 1948. That was his last major public address;
ironically, he delivered it in English, though he spoke to a Bengali-lan-
guage audience and informed them “in the clearest language” that “the
State Language of Pakistan is going to be URDU and no other language.” 13
This was, of course, the most volatile, divisive issue in Pakistani politics.

Any one who tries to mislead you is really the enemy of Pakistan.
Without on® State Language, no Nation can remain tied up solidly
together and function. Look at the history of other countries. There¬
fore, so far as the Stale Language is concerned, Pakistan’s language
shall ho UHDIJ. ... I It’ll you once again, do not fall into the trap
of llio.se who are ilie enemies of Pakistan, Unfortunately you have

360

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

fifth-columnists and I am sorry to say they are Muslims—who are
financed by outsiders . . . you must have patience. With your help
and with your support we will make Pakistan a mighty State. . . .

No amount of trouble, no amount of hard work or sacrifice is too
much or to be shirked. ... I wish you God speed. 14

Pie did not live to return, however, or to see East Pakistan metamorphosed
through fire into the separate nation of Bangladesh, where Bengali would
become and remain the sole official language.

The Frontier grew more restive as well. Pathans continued talking
about a state of their own, “Pashtunistan,” and even the Baluchis kept
murmuring about a ‘Greater Baluchistan.” So in April Jinnah was flown to
Peshawar where he had to speak at Islamia College, and to air force cadets
at Risalpur, and to the civil officers at the government house, and then at
an open-air meeting in Peshawar, where “He was drenched to the bone,”
Fatima recalled. “That night it was obvious that he had caught a chill, but
he refused to send for a doctor. ‘It’s nothing,’ he said to me, ‘just a cold.’
This cold was the beginning of the end. In Karachi, his cough continued,
and only when I forced a doctor on him did we learn that he had bron¬
chitis. . . .” 15 Jinnah knew it was much worse than either a cold or bron¬
chitis but did not wish to alarm Fatima more than was absolutely neces¬
sary. He understood too well by then that there was no cure for his
sickness, no simple patent medicine to take his pain away or make the
coughing stop.

Jinnah’s relations with his closest colleagues deteriorated rapidly in the
final months of his life. As he grew weaker and daily more conscious of
the imminence of death, he was less patient with inefficiency and inepti¬
tude, more easily angered by the usual excuses for not getting anything
done. Before dying, he naturally wanted to see significant progress in his
struggling infant land. In mid-April at a “private and exclusive lunch” at
the nawab of Bahawalpur’s House, Jinnah called Liaquat “mediocre” 16 in
luncheon conversation with M. A. Khuhro, the then chief minister of Sind.
Relations between the governor-general and his prime minister could
hardly have been less than strained perhaps in that era of unrelieved na¬
tional calamity and stress, financial stringency, and virtual war. Liaquat
reportedly wrote Jinnah in January and offered to “resign” as prime min¬
ister after learning from his begum of Jinnah’s angrily and openly ex¬
pressed dissatisfaction with his work. Jinnah expressed equal frustration
and disgust at the way the nawab of Mamdot, then chief minister of the
Punjab, “was uninterested in the fate of the refugees.” lie called Mamdol
and Governor Mudie to Karachi in May and told Mumdol, who had been
his right arm in winning the Punjab for the League, that "he was useless as

361

ZIARAT (1948)

a Prime Minister, which,” Mudie reported, “was only too true. He [Jin¬
nah], therefore, nominated Mian Mumtaz Daultana” to take control of the
Punjab ministry, 17 but Daultana “refused, protesting that he had complete
confidence in Mamdot. ... I [Mudie] knew and he [Daultana] knew
that if he did become Prime Minister Mamdot would just about cut his
throat. Jinnah was very angry and the meeting was adjourned. . . . Jin¬
nah . . . rounded on me. . . . ‘Your policy is weak. You’ve lost your nerve.’
I asked what his orders for me were. He said ‘None.’ I then asked what his
advice to me would be as a friend. He replied ‘Wash your hands of them,
as I am going to do.’ ... It was clear . . . that Jinnah was far from well.
Indeed he had to lie down immediately after our meeting.” 18

In June, Jinnah and Fatima flew to Quetta, where he could breathe the
cool bracing air of Baluchistan mountain country. “Within a few days of
our arrival ... he was able to sleep and eat well; the coughing subsided
and his temperature came down to normal,” Fatima recalled. “For the first
time in many years he seemed relaxed.” 19 On June 14, Jinnah addressed the
officers of Quetta’s Staff College, reflecting perhaps his own deepest anxi¬
eties about the growing strain in his relations with the cabinet and other
official colleagues.

You, along with other Forces of Pakistan, are the custodians of the
life, property and honour of the people of Pakistan. The Defence
Forces are the most vital of all Pakistan Services and correspond-
ingly a very heavy responsibility and burden lies on your shoul¬
ders. ... I want you to remember and if you have time enough you
should study the Government of India Act, as adapted for use in
Pakistan, which is our present Constitution, that the executive au¬
thority flows from the Head of the Government of Pakistan, who is
the Governor-General, and, therefore, any command or orders that
may come to you cannot come without the sanction of the Executive
Head. 20

The next day he told the Quetta municipality, which presented him
with a handsome Relief Fund purse, that “luckily Baluchistan was spared
I he tragedy which the Punjab went through on the establishment of Paki¬
stan. . . . Quetta may be as great a civil station as a cantonment. . . . For
ii large part of Western Pakistan it will be the natural summer resort. . . .
It naturally pains me to find the curse of provincialism holding sway over
.my section of Pakistanis. Pakistan must be rid of this evil. It is a relic of
Iht' old administration . . . British control. . . . We are now all Paki¬
stanis— not Baluchis, Pathans, Sindhis, Bengalis, Punjabis and so on . . .
mid wo should he proud to he known us Pakistanis and nothing else.” 21
Fatima tried to "talk him mil of agreeing to lly hack to Karachi to

362 JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

speak at the opening ceremony of the State Bank of Pakistan on July 1,
1948, but Jinnah insisted on going. The flight so “exhausted him” that “he
could hardly get out of bed” to deliver the speech that was written for
him. As Fatima noted: “Those who saw and heard him must have realised
that he was not in good health; his voice was scarcely audible and he
paused and coughed his way through his speech. When we returned home
he collapsed into bed with his shoes on.” 22 He had earlier accepted an
invitation from the Canadian commissioner of trade to attend a reception
that evening to celebrate the eighty-first anniversary of the dominion; that
was to be the last social function Jinnah would ever attend.

On July 6, Jinnah and his sister flew back to Quetta, but he continued
to run “a slight fever,” so the doctors advised moving him to even more
rarefied an atmosphere. Ziarat, a lonely Baluchi hill station forty miles and
several thousand feet above Quetta, boasted a residency bungalow built
by the British. That hill station was perched like an eagle at the top of the
timber line. It was Jinnah’s last retreat in the search of air pure enough to
save his dying lungs. “A cluster of fruit trees and beds of flowers add to the
beauty of the place,” Fatima recalled, noting how her brother, whose “con¬
dition was deteriorating,” liked “its quiet charm.”

Lieutenant Colonel Ilahi Bakhsh of the Indian Medical Service was “sit¬
ting out on [his] lawn” in Lahore after dinner on July 21, when Muham¬
mad Ali, the secretary general to the government of Pakistan, phoned from
Karachi ordering him to fly “immediately” to Quetta. Dr. Bakhsh was mot
at the airport there on Friday afternoon by Major General M. A. Khan and
Colonel K. Jilani, who drove with him in the governor-general’s car to
Ziarat. “Nobody knew what he was suffering from,” recalled Bakhsh. “All
I could gather was that he abhorred injections and patent medicines and
preferred to be addressed as ‘Sir’ and not as ‘Your Excellency.’ ” 23

Fatima brought him to his great leader’s bedroom the next morning.

I found the Quaid-i-Azam lying in bed facing the door. He looked
shockingly thin and weak and had an ashen grey complexion . . .
his appearance that morning frightened me. Fie must have guessed
what was in my mind, for he diverted my attention by motioning mo
to a chair and enquiring if I had a pleasant journey. I sat down and
asked for a detailed account of his present and previous illnesses.

. . . “There is nothing much wrong with me,” he told me, “except
that I have got stomach trouble and exhaustion due to overwork and
worry. For forty years I have worked for 14 hours a day, never
knowing what disease was. However, for the last few years I have
been having annual attacks of fever and cough. My doctors In Bom¬
bay regarded these us attacks of bronchitis, and with the usual treat

ziarat (1948) 363

ment and rest in bed, I generally recovered within a week or so. For
the last year or two, however, they have increased both in frequency
and severity and are much more exhausting.” While I was listening
to him I found him losing breath after every sentence and some¬
times pausing in the middle. His mouth was dry and he moistened
his lips many times while talking. The voice lacked tone and was
. . . almost inaudible. He had a couple of fits of coughing . . .
which left him exhausted. . . . After a short pause during which he
closed his eyes and looked more dead than alive, he continued,
“About three weeks ago I caught a chill and developed fever and a
cough for which the Civil Surgeon of Quetta prescribed penicillin
lozenges. I have been taking these since; my cold is better, the fever
is less, but I feel very weak. I don’t think there is anything organi¬
cally wrong with me ... if my stomach can be put right I will re¬
cover soon. Many years ago I had a rather bad stomach trouble for
which I consulted two or three London specialists, but they failed
to diagnose my illness, and one of them even advised operation. . . .

I didn’t submit to the operations and on the advice of another Lon¬
don doctor went to Germany and consulted a famous doctor. He
told me that I had no organic trouble and only needed rest and a
regulation of diet. I stayed in his clinic for a few weeks and recov¬
ered completely. In 1934 I was diagnosed by the Bombay doctors to
be suffering from heart disease, but a heart specialist in Germany
assured me that my heart was perfectly normal.”

The doctor asked the governor-general to remove his silk pyjama top so
that he could listen to his heart; “I observed with distress that he was
much thinner than he appeared with clothes on and could not make out
how he had managed to survive and work in such an advanced stage of
emaciation. ... I had seen equally severe cases among the prisoners of
war at Singapore. . . . The physical examination . . . dimmed my hopes,
although I did not reveal my fears to the patient. ... I expressed a desire
to have him investigated further before I could give my final diagnosis, but
hinted that the root cause of the trouble appeared to me to be lung disease
and not his stomach. The Quaid-i-Azam still believed, however, that his
primary trouble was the stomach, and urged me to pay more attention to
it. . . ,” 24 Bakhsh did not ignore his patient’s concern and prescribed a
"high caloric . . . low residue diet.” Fatima “appeared to doubt” the “ad¬
vantage” of inflicting such a diet on her brother but said nothing, and for
a day or two Jinnah seemed to eat better, for the wise doctor also pre¬
scribed “a digestive mixture,”

Bakhsh did the best, in fuel, that any medical practitioner could have
done lie "rang up" the rlvll Nitrgeon from Quella, who drove up to Ziarat

364

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

next morning with his clinical pathologist and brought along his micro¬
scope and reagents to test Jinnah’s blood sputum and do the usual labora¬
tory work. Their lab “findings” confirmed the colonel’s “suspicions.” With
so important a patient, however, further corroboration was considered es¬
sential before surrendering hope to the fatal disease that was consuming
his lungs. So Bakhsh wired his own hospital in Lahore and ordered three
of its best specialists to fly to Ziarat, telling one of them to bring his por¬
table x ray along. Then he wired Karachi for special medicines. Within the
week most of Pakistan’s advanced medical people were flown or driven
8,500 feet above sea level to Ziarat; they concentrated on the dying old
man who coughed without respite in that remote spot, whose strange name
means “burial tomb,” like the ancient ziggurat mound of Mesopotamia
erected at the dawn of civilization to house the remains of a god-king.
Bakhsh recalled.

While I was telling him the grave news I watched him intently.

He . . . remained quite calm and all he said after I had finished
was, “Have you told Miss Jinnah?” I replied, “Yes, Sir ... I had to
take her into confidence.” The Quaid-i-Azam interrupted me and
said, “No, you shouldn’t have done it. After all she is a woman.” I
expressed regret for the pain caused to his sister. . . . The Quaid-i-
Azam listened patiently and in the end said, “It doesn’t matter, what
is done is done. Now tell me all about it. How long have I had this
disease? What are the chances of my overcoming it? How long will
the treatment last? I should like to know everything and you must
not hesitate to tell me the whole truth.” ... I replied that I . . .
felt confident that with the aid of the latest drugs there should be a
fair chance of a considerable improvement. 25

Ispahani flew in from New York that week and offered to arrange for
any “medical aid from America” that might be needed, which he was
ready to bring in a “special plane” if Dr. Bakhsh thought it advisable. “Ho
enquired about the nature of the illness—which, of course, I could not
reveal,” Bakhsh noted, allowing Jinnah’s friend to see him alone. How¬
ever, “After his interview he came downstairs visibly moved. I hoped he
had not betrayed his anxiety before the patient. In his evident concern he
repeated his offer of medical help from America. . . .” But there was noth¬
ing any American doctor could have done that Bakhsh was not trying to
do. No cure had been discovered for the tuberculosis-turned-to-hing-can-
cer that had by then almost totally consumed both of his lungs.

Liaquat arrived shortly after Ispahani left and spent about half mi
hour alone with Jinnah. lie must have seen what anyone allowed close
enough to look could have seen the governin' general was (lying. The

365

ZIARAT ( 1948 )

Quaid-i-Azam would soon to be no more, and the burden of leading Paki¬
stan would fall upon his shoulders, his ulcer, his life. Fatima, who had
never really liked either Liaquat or his begum—(perhaps she blamed them
both for helping lure Jinnah back to India from his Hampstead retreat,
where she and her beloved brother might have lived their lives out in
peace and quiet contentment), subsequently reported that after Liaquat
left, Jinnah told her with trembling voice, “Do you know why he has
come? He wants to know how serious my illness is, how long I will last.” 26
It was doubtless true, yet hardly as opprobrious as Fatima considered it,
under the circumstances. There was, after all, still a nation to be run-
millions of displaced persons to be fed and cared for, an undeclared war
in Kashmir to be fought, a constitution to be drafted, dissident Bengalis,
Pathans, Baluchis, Punjabis, and Sindis somehow to be satisfied. To Lia¬
quat, a displaced Nawabzada from the United Provinces and Oxford, it
must have seemed odd to be there in Ziarat, still a mere “courtier” to that
imperious regal couple, though he was almost fifty-three. The prime minis¬
ter would have little more than three years after Jinnah died before a hired
assassin’s bullet claimed his life in mid-October 1951, in Bawalpindi. Dr.
Bakhsh remarked of Liaquat:

Downstairs in the drawing room I met the Prime Minister. He anx¬
iously enquired about the Quaid-i-Azam, complimented me on hav¬
ing won the first round by securing the patient’s confidence, and
expressed the hope that it would contribute to his recovery. He also
urged me to probe into the root cause of the persistent disease. I
assured him that despite the Quaid-i-Azam’s serious condition there
was reason to hope that if he responded to the latest medicines
which had been sent for from Karachi he might yet overcome the
trouble, and that the most hopeful feature was the patient’s strong
power of resistance. I was moved by the Prime Minister’s deep con¬
cern for the health of his Chief and old comrade. 27

Streptomycine arrived and was administered, but “miracle” drug that
it was, it could not achieve the impossible. Nor did the Id prayers of Jin¬
nah’s nation, voiced from every mosque in Pakistan and elsewhere through¬
out the Muslim world on August 7, suffice to turn the inexorable tide of
the insidious disease that silently consumed his lungs. By August 9 edema
of the feet set in, and the medical staff surrounding the Quaid decided it
would be best to remove him to a lower altitude. Ziarat’s rarefied atmo¬
sphere appeared to be imposing too great a strain on his failing heart and
kidneys. Injections of eormnino and ultraviolet therapy proved useless.
Jinnah. however, was reluctant In move anywhere, especially on the eve of
Independence Dm, which was prorlNcly when liakhsh advised driving

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

him down to Quetta. “This is impossible,” the governor-general replied.

The earliest would be the 15th.” They feared that date might be too late,
enlisting Fatima’s support in pressing him till at last he agreed.

Jinnah’s final journey home began on August 13 at 3:30 p.m. He in¬
sisted on wearing “a brand new suit with a tie to match, and a handker¬
chief in his vanity pocket,” Fatima recalled. “I helped him put on his
polished pump shoes. He was brought down on a stretcher and was placed
in a semi-reclining position in the back of the big Humber car, in which
we travelled to Quetta.” 28 Though many “precautions” had been taken to
keep the move “top secret,” cheering crowds lined the road along then-
winding descent. The Humber had escort cars and a jeep front and rear,
so it was quite a convoy with the governor-general’s handsome blue flags
flying as they bumped over the rocky ill-surfaced road that had never
borne so important or imposing an entourage before. They stopped for tea
about a mile past the Rest House, since Jinnah had noticed “about a dozen
men standing around there and wanted no intrusive eyes seeing how
weak he was. Dr. Bakhsh remembered:

We reached Quetta just before sunset after about four hours’ driv-
ing. The Residency had been cleared of all visitors, and we shifted
him on stretcher to his bed-room on the first floor, ... I examined
his pulse and found that every tenth or fifteenth beat was missing. . . .

I ascribed the abnormality in the pulse to the exhaustion of the jour¬
ney and hoped it would disappear with rest. . . . Next morning,
August the 14th, was the Anniversary of the establishment of Paki¬
stan. We visited the Quaid-i-Azam at about 8.30. ... I said: “Sir,
we are very fortunate in having brought you down to Quetta with¬
out any mishap. It was risky to shift you from Ziarat in such a weak
state. . . .” The Quaid-i-Azam smiled, saying, “Yes, I am glad you
have brought me here. I was caught in a trap at Ziarat.” 29

A statement published that morning in Pakistan’s daily newspapers was
entitled the Quaid-i-Azam’s “Message” to the “Citizens of Pakistan” blit
was obviously composed in Karachi not Ziarat:

Today we are celebrating the first anniversary of our freedom. We
have faced the year with courage, determination and imagination,
and the record of our achievements has been a wonderful one in
warding off the blows of the enemy. ... I congratulate you all—my
Ministers under the leadership of the Prime Minister. 80

Jinnah had written none of it, of course. Tie wrote nothing any longer ami
barely glanced at the morning newspapers. I low remote that glorious ear
riuge ride with MoimtbutUm most have muniied to him on this first mail

367

ZIARAT (1948)

versary—the air ringing with shouts of “Pakistan Zindabad” and his most
pressing fear of death then from an unknown assassin’s bullet. The count¬
less “traps” set for him, some baited so handsomely—provincial governor,
prime minister, knighthood—he had eluded them all. Daggers, guns,
bombs, all of them had missed the Grey Wolf. He had proved himself too
fast, too elusive, too strong for them.

The third week in August, Jinnah’s appetite improved slightly. He asked
for halva and purees, two delicacies his doctor initially had feared might
be too “heavy” for him to digest, but Fatima wisely fed her brother his
favorites, and they seemed to cheer him up. The doctors tried to get him
to move as much as possible by sitting him up in bed for his meals, then
standing him on his feet, walking him a bit, trying to keep his muscles
from atrophying, and trying to help his digestive system to function. He
became more irritable; he yelled at everyone for not being more “punc¬
tual,” and Fatima explained that “her brother attached a great deal of im¬
portance to punctuality, and had all his life been most punctual himself.” 31

Jinnah’s doctor was “shocked” to find that his patient weighed only
eighty pounds. It was clear to all those at the Quaid-i-Azam’s bedside that
if he was ever to return alive to his capital he would have to be flown back
there very soon. Jinnah asked for permission to resume smoking. (He had
smoked an average of fifty or more Craven A cigarettes a day over the last
thirty years.) The doctor permitted him to have one cigarette a day, order¬
ing him not to inhale. Soon, however Bakhsh agreed to double his “ration.”

It did us good to see him enjoying it, . . . since in a habitual smoker
the first sign of recovery was commonly a craving for and pleasure
in smoking. . . . Next morning I noticed four cigarette stumps in
the ashtray on the table by his bedside . . . the patient had ex¬
ceeded his allowance. . . . Looking at the ashtray, I remarked that
he appeared to have enjoyed his cigarettes. The Quaid-i-Azam took
the hint, and ingeniously replied: “Yes, but didn’t you tell me there
was no harm in smoking if I didn’t inhale?” ... his mind was re¬
gaining its old legal quality, and we welcomed this additional sign
of recovery. 32

(ligarette smoke did not help heal his lungs, however, so the doctors con¬
tinued advising him to moderate his smoking and return to Karachi. But
Jinnah did not want to go “home” to the governor-general’s mansion as an
‘'invalid,'' lie suggested a few quieter places on the plains, Sibi and Malir,
lull both nl those were hot, dusty, and remote.

lie said to Bakhsh: "I >on‘l lake me to Karachi on crutches. I want to go
there when I euu walk limn the ear in my mom. Von know, from 11 1 <- porch

368

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

you have to pass the A.D.C.’s room and then the Military Secretary’s be¬
fore you reach mine. I dislike being carried on a stretcher from the car to
my room. He wanted none of his Karachi staff to see him this way, too
weak to stand up. Jinnah practically stopped eating after August 28, and
whenever Bakhsh urged him to take some food, he was told, “Doctor, you
are overfeeding me. I have never taken so much food before, even when I
was quite well. . . . Some years ago we had a European diplomat to din¬
ner in Bombay. He did not take the soup when it was served. I noticed this
but thought perhaps he was not fond of soup. When the fish was brought
he refused that also. I was surprised but kept quiet. But when the joint was
served and he didn t touch it, I couldn’t refrain from asking him the reason
of this abstinence. Our guest replied that he had been living on lettuce for
six months. We were all the more surprised because he appeared to be in
very good health. Now do you think a man can live for such a long time on
lettuce and maintain good health?” 33

Jinnah lived on a few cups of tea and coffee, and some plain water to
swallow his pills. He “lay in bed quietly all day,” listless, apathetic, de¬
pressed. “Fati, I am no longer interested in living. The sooner I go the bet¬
ter, he confessed before the month ended. “It does not matter whether I
live or die, he told Bakhsh on August 29. Bakhsh “noticed tears in his eyes,
and was startled by this manifestation of feeling in one generally looked
upon as unemotional and unbending. ... I had always felt that he had
been kept going, despite his low vitality, by an indomitable will. ... I
knew from experience that when a patient gave up the fight no treatment,
however perfect, could achieve much, and was, therefore, greatly distressed
to find that the man of iron will had given up the fight. 34

By September, Jinnah had pneumonia as well as tuberculosis and cancer
of the lungs. His temperature rose to about 100° with his pulse dispropor¬
tionately higher and his heartbeat was irregular, occasionally missing. Oxy
gen was required to help him breathe. Ispahani was cabled to call I )..
Hinshaw of the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota to fly immediately to Quellu
for consultation. 85 Bakhsh also sent for Dr. M. A. Mistry from Karachi.
Mistry arrived the next morning, September 9. Mistry and Bakhsh had been
classmates at Guy’s Hospital in London, where both had received llirli
M.D.s in 1931. After examining the patient, Mistry confirmed his frieml’N
diagnosis, treatment, and advice, judging that there was really nothing
more any American doctor could do. Jinnah was heard muttering aloud as
he tossed about uncomfortably in bed . . . “The Kashmir Commission have
an appointment with me today, why haven’t they tinned up? Whore are
they?” 30

The governor-},reiK'iiil’s Viking and two Dakota airplanes to carry Ills

369

ZIARAT (1948)

staff and luggage arrived at Quetta airport and were ready to take off by
2:00 p.m. on September 11, 1948. “As his stretcher was taken into the Vi¬
king’s cabin,” Fatima recalled, “the pilot and crew lined up and saluted him.
He in turn lifted his hand feebly. ... A bed had been improvised in the
front cabin and I sat with him, along with Dr. Mistry. . . . Oxygen cylin¬
ders and a gas mask were ready. . . . After about two hours flying, we
landed at the Air Force base at Mauripur at 4:15 pm. Here he had landed
just over a year ago, full of hope and confidence that he would help build
Pakistan into a great nation. Then thousands had thronged to welcome him.
But today, as instructed . . . there was no one at the airport. Colonel
Knowles . . . greeted us as we came out of the plane.” 37 Knowles was Jin¬
nah s military secretary and had brought the army ambulance into which
the governor-general was carried on his stretcher. Fatima and a Quetta
nurse. Sister Dunham, sat inside the rear of the ambulance with Jinnah,
while the doctors followed in the governor-general’s new Cadillac limousine.

“After we had covered about four or five miles, the ambulance coughed
and came to a sudden stop. Five minutes later,” Fatima reported, “I got out
only to be told that it had run out of petrol, but the driver was also fidget¬
ing with the engine . . . there was no breeze, and the humid heat was op¬
pressive. To add to his discomfort, scores of flies buzzed around his face,
and he did not have the strength to brush them away. . . . Sister Dunham
and I fanned him in turns, waiting for another ambulance to arrive. . . .
Every minute was an eternity of agony. He could not be shifted to the
Cadillac as it was not big enough for the stretcher.” 38

“Wondering what had happened,” wrote Bakhsh, “I got out and found
that there had been a breakdown due to engine trouble. The driver assured
us that he would soon put it right, but he fiddled with the engine for about
twenty minutes, and the ambulance would not start. Miss Jinnah sent the
Military Secretary to fetch another ambulance. Dr. Mistry went with him.
... I examined him [Jinnah] and was horrified to find his pulse becoming
weaker and irregular. I ran . . . and brought back a thermos flask contain¬
ing hot tea. Miss Jinnah quickly gave him a cup. . . . What a catastrophe
if, having survived the air journey, he were to die by the road-side.” 39

It was a lonely stretch of highway leading south toward Karachi.
“Nearby stood hundreds of huts belonging to the refugees,” noted Fatima,
“who went about their business, not knowing that their Quaid, who had
given them a homeland, was in their midst, lying helpless. Cars honked
their way past, buses and trucks rumbled by, and we stood there im¬
mobilized in an ambulance dial refused to move an inch. . . . We waited
lor over one hour, and no hour, in my life has been so long and lull of
anguish."' 10

370

JINNAH OF PAKISTAN

The trip from the airport to the government house took half as long as
the entire flight from Quetta. They reached the governor-general’s mansion
at 6:10 p.m. ‘Tie slept for about two hours,” Fatima noted, “then he opened
his eyes and . . . whispered, ‘Fati. . . His head dropped slightly to the
right, his eyes closed. I ran out of the room crying, ‘Doctor, doctor. Gome
quickly. My brother is dying. Where are the doctors?’ In a few moments
they were there, examining him and giving him injections. I stood there,
motionless, speechless. Then I saw them cover his body, head to foot, with
the sheet . . . and fainted on the floor.”

Quaid-i-Azam Jinnah died at 10:20 p.m. on September 11, 1948. All that
remained of him weighed only seventy pounds. Wrapped in a simple
shroud, he was buried the next day in Karachi, where a handsome domed
monument of pink marble now stands, housing the remains of one of his¬
tory’s most remarkable, tenacious, enigmatic figures.

Fatima Jinnah, who inherited most of her brother’s estate, remained in
Pakistan till her death on July 9, 1967. In 1964-65, the Madar-i-Millat
(“Mother of the Nation”), tried to follow in her brother’s political footsteps
by running for president of Pakistan against Field Marshal Ayub Khan.
She ran a vigorous campaign as the candidate for Ayub’s united opposition
and won great support in the east; but she was defeated because of Ayub’s
“basic democracy” technique of undemocratic elections. After that she re¬
sumed her former life of luxurious isolation, spending her final years in vir¬
tual solitude and reflecting on the remarkable man to whom she had de¬
voted herself.

Jinnah’s daughter Dina never joined her father in Pakistan while he
lived; she came to Karachi only for his funeral. When Dina married Neville
Wadia, a Parsi-born Christian, Jinnah tried his best to dissuade her, going
almost as far as Sir Dinshaw Petit had with his daughter. As Justice Chaglu
recalled: “Jinnah, in his usual imperious manner, told her that there were
millions of Muslim boys in India, and she could have anyone she chose.
Then the young lady, who was more than a match for her father, replied:
‘Father, there were millions of Muslim girls in India. Why did you not
marry one of them ?’” 41 Jinnah never spoke to his daughter after she mar¬
ried. And though they did correspond, he always addressed her formally as
“Mrs. Wadia” and never talked of her to his friends, insisting, indeed, (I in I
he had “no daughter .” 42

Dina and Neville Wadia kept house in Bombay and bad two children,
soon after which they separated. Neville, who presided over the Wadia
commercial and textile empire there, passed eontml oi his business on to

371

ZIABAT (1948)

his son Nusli, who chairs the board of Wadia Industries, Ltd. and has two
sons, Jinnah’s only great grandchildren, who live in Bombay as citizens of
India. Dina and Neville had a daughter as well, who apparently lives in
Manhattan as something of a “recluse” but was “too young to remember
[Jinnah] and saw little of him,” according to her father. Neville Wadia
left India after divorcing Dina, choosing to reside in Switzerland. Dina
moved to New York City and lived alone in a splendid apartment on Madi¬
son Avenue until at least 1982 . Thus, none of Jinnah’s direct descendants
ever opted for Pakistan.

Notes

CHAPTER 1: KARACHI

1. Fazlur Rahman, Islam (Garden City: Doubleday, 1966), pp. 213-19;
S. A. A. Rizvi, “Islam in Medieval India,” in A Cultural History of India, ed. A. L.
Basham (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1975), chap. 19.

2. G. Allana, Quaid-i-Azam Jinnah: The Story of A Nation (Lahore: Ferozsons
Ltd., 1967), p. 3.

3. Jinnah’s sisters, Rahmat, Maryam, Fatima, and Shireen, followed in that
order, while the youngest of his siblings were his two brothers, Ahmed Ali and
Bundeh Ali.

4. M. A. Harris, “Quaid-i-Azam, What is his date of birth?,” in M. A. Harris,
Quaid-i-Azam (1950; reprint, Karachi: Times Press, 1976), pp. 35—53, is the best
primary source evidence concerning the puzzling question of Jinnah’s actual
birth date.

5. Fatima Jinnah, “My Brother,” an unpublished personal memoir preserved
in the National Archives of Pakistan, Islamabad, F/143.

6. Alexander F. Baillie, Kurrachee: Past, Present and Future (Karachi: Oxford
University Press, 1975), p. 4.

7. M. H. Saiyid, Mohammad Ali Jinnah (Lahore: S. M. Ashraf, 1945), p. 2.

8. Jinnah, “My Brother.”

9. Hector Bolitho, Jinnah, Creator of Pakistan (London: John Murray, 1954),
p. 7.

10. Jinnah, ‘My Brother.”

11. Ibid.

12. Ibid.

13. Sir John Evelyn Wrench, The Immortal Years, 1937—1944 (London:
Hutchinson, 1945), p. 132.

14. Ibid.

15. flrmtih, "My brother."

10, 'Ibid,

17. India mile- l.llmiry mid Records. London. IOH: Photo Fur 127.

IH. bolitho. Jinnah, p, 7,

374

NOTES

19. President Dadabhai Naoroji’s address to the Calcutta Congress, December
1886, in The Indian National Congress, 2d ed. (Madras: G. A. Natesan & Co.,
1917), p. 19. Hereafter cited as INC.

20. Jinnah, “My Brother.”

21. Ibid.

22. Stanley Wolpert, Morley and India, 1906-1910 (Berkeley and Los An¬
geles: University of California Press, 1967), p. 19.

23. President Alfred Webb’s address to the Madras Congress, 1894, INC

[19], p. 187. 5

24. Bolitho, Hnnah, p. 13.

25. Jinnah, “My Brother.”

26. Syed Sharifuddin Pirzada, Some Aspects of Quaid-i-Azam s Life (Islama¬
bad: National Commission on Historical and Cultural Research, 1978), p. 11.

27. IOR: Photo Eur 127.

CHAPTER 2: BOMBAY (1896-1910)

1. Jinnah, “My Brother.”

2. Sarojini Naidu, “Mohammad Ali Jinnah-Ambassador of Hindu-Muslim
Unity, in Quaid-i-Azam as Seen by His Contemporaries, comp. Jamil-ud-din
Ahmad (Lahore: Publishers United Ltd., 1966), p. 159.

3. There were several influential and wealthy Peerbhoy families settled in
Bombay, most famous of which was Sir Adamji Peerbhoy’s (1863-1913) Borah
Muslim family. Jinnah s aunt was not related to Sir Adamji, but her three sons,
Akbar, Ayaz, and Yusuf, attained prominence in their own right; Akbar was a
barrister. I am indebted to my good friend and colleague, Professor D. R. Sar
Desai of Bombay and Los Angeles, for the above information.

4. Saiyid, Jinnah, p. 8.

5. Allana, Quaid-i-Azam, p. 27.

6. Jinnah, “My Brother.”

7. President Badruddin Tyabji’s address to the Madras Congress, 1887, INC
[I, 19], p. 25.

8. G. Allana, ed., Pakistan Movement: Historic Documents (Karachi: Depart¬
ment of International Relations, University of Karachi, 1967) p 1

9. Ibid., p. 3. V

10. A contemporary Bombay “advocate” of Jinnah’s quoted in Bolitho, Jinnah,

11. Joachim Alva, Leaders of India (Bombay: Thacker & Co. Ltd., 1943)
pp. 63#.

12. M. C. Chagla, Roses in December, An Autobiography (Bombay: Bhara¬
tiya Vidya Bhavan, 1974), p. 53. 3

13. President Pherozeshah Mehta’s address to the Calcutta Congress, 1890

INC [I, 19], p. 68. b

14. Ibid., p. 72.

15. C. Y. Chintamani, ed., Speeches and Writings of the Honourable Sir

Pherozeshah M. Mehta, K.C.I.E. (Allahabad: The Indian Press 1905) nn
818-19. w

16. Ibid., p. 823.

17. B. R. Nanda, Gokhale: The Indian Moderates and Ilia British Rai (Prince-
ton: Princeton University Press, 1977), pp. 187-89.

18. Sarojini Nnidu's words, miolwT in Sharif A1 MiijnWcl, Qmid-i-Aznm
Hnnah: simUn in InlerfrnhiUou, 2d rev. ml. (Kimulil: (,)imlil-l Aram Armlomy.

1981), p. 8.

NOTES 375

19. President Gopal K. Gokhale’s address to the Benares Congress, 1905, INC
[1,19], p. 796.

20. Allana, Pakistan Movement, pp. 7—10.

21. Maiy, Countess of Minto, India, Minto and Morley, 1905-10 (London:
Macmillan, 1934), pp. 47-48.

22. Amrita Bazar Patrika, October 4, 1906, quoted in M. N. Das, India under
Morley and Minto (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1964), p. 173.

23. Aga Khan to Dunlop Smith, October 29, 1906, S. S. Pirzada, ed., Founda¬
tions of Pakistan: All-India Muslim League Documents, vol. I (1906-24) (Kara¬
chi: National Publishing House Ltd., 1969), p. 4. The next quote is from ibid.,
p. xliv.

24. Ibid., p. 5.

25. Ibid., p. 6.

26. H. H. The Aga Khan, The Memoirs of Aga Khan (New York: Simon &
Schuster, 1954), pp. 122-23.

27. President Dadabhai Naoroji’s address to the Calcutta Congress, 1906,
INC [1,19], pp. 837-38.

28. Ibid., p. 853-54.

29. Sarojini Naidu’s title for him in Naidu, “Ambassador.”

30. Ibid., pp. 158-59.

31. Minto to Morley, November 11, 1909, in Wolpert, Morley, p. 198.

32. Morley to Minto, December 6, 1909, ibid., p. 199. The following quote is
from ibid.

33. Saiyid, Jinnah, p. 64.

34. Resolution XVI, Allahabad Congress, 1910, INC [I, 19], pt. II, p. 142.

CHAPTER 3: CALCUTTA (1910-1915)

1. Mary Minto, India, pp. 371—72.

2. Resolution IX, Lahore Congress, 1909, INC [I, 19], pt. II, p. 135.

3. February 25, 1910, Calcutta, in Fazal Haque Qureshi, ed., Every Day with
the Quaid-i-Azam (Karachi: Sultan Ashraf Qureshi, 1976), p. 66. The following
quote in the same paragraph is also from this source.

4. Mohammad Yusuf Khan, The Glory of Quaid-i-Azam (Lahore: Caravan
Book Centre, 1976), pp. 23-24.

5. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. I, p. 258.

6. Ibid., p. 272.

7. Sarojini Naidu, ed., Mohammad Ali Jinnah: His Speeches and Writings,
1912-1917 (Madras: Ganesh, 1918), p. 11.

8. Ibid.; Naidu, “Ambassador.”

9. Bolitho, Jinnah, p. 58.

10. Resolution V, Karachi Congress, 1913, INC [I, 19], pt. II, pp. 159—60.

11. Resolution IV, ibid., p. 159.

12. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. I, 316.

13. Lord Crewe to Lord Hardinge, 14 May 1916, in Viceroy Lord Hardinge
Papers, Reel 11, 37. Cambridge University Library, Cambridge, Hereafter cited
as IIP.

14. At a reception for him in the Cecil Hotel, London, August 14, 1914,
India (London: British Committee Weekly of Indian National Congress), p. 71.

15. Bombay, |annury M. 1015, The Collected, Works of Mahatma Gandhi,
vol. XIII (Alnnetlahiul: Navajlvan Trust, 1964), p, 9. Hereafter cited as CWMG.

1(1. I’lizada. Foundations, vol. I.pp. 330 I.

17. Ibid,, p, 35(1.

376

NOTES

18. Ibid., p. 353.

19. Ibid., p. 352.

20. Chagla, Roses in December, p. 25.

21. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. I, pp. 353-54

22. Ibid., p. 361.

CHAPTER 4: LUCKNOW TO BOMBAY (1916-1918)

1. L. F. Rushbrook-Williams, “The Evolution of the Quaid-i-Azam As Ob¬
served in Papers Presented at the International Congress on Quaid-i-Azam, 19-25
December 1976, 5 vols. (Islamabad: Quaid-i-Azam University, 1976), vol. X
p. 115. Hereafter cited Papers.

2. S. M. Edwardes, Memoir of Sir Dinshaw Manockiee Petit (Oxford- Oxford
University Press, 1923), p. 3.

3. Kanji Dwarlcadas, Buttle Jinnah (Bombay: Kanji Dwarkadas, 1963) p 9

4. Saiyid, Jinnah, append. II, p. 842.

5. Ibid., p. 846.

6. Ibid., p. 851.

7. Ibid., pp. 854-55.

8- Allana, Pakistan Movement. All quotations in the following paragraph are
from Saiyid, Jinnah, pp. 33-39.

9. Saiyid, Jinnah, pp. 41-42.

10. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. I, pp. 371-73.

^p l ' s portion of Jinnah’s address does not appear in ibid., which used the
Muslim Leagues “Official Pamphlet” report of Jinnahs presidential address as its
primary source. The quoted passage was deleted from that pamphlet but has been
preserved in Saiyid, Jinnah, append. Ill, pp. 872-89, esp. 873.

12. Saiyid, Jinnah, pp. 878-79.

13. Ibid., pp. 879-80.

14. President A. C. Mazumdar’s address to the Lucknow Congress, 1916 INC

[1,19], p. 1274. 6

15. Quoted in Stanley A. Wolpert, Tilak and Gokhale (Berkeley and Los
Angeles: University of California Press, 1962), p. 275.

16. Chagla, Roses in December, p. 119.

Pdwin S ' Montagu, An Indian Diary, ed. Venetia Montagu (London:
William Heinemann, 1930), November 26, 1917, pp. 8-10.

18. Ibid., November 10,1917, pp. 8-10.

19. Ibid., November 29, 1917, p. 58.

20. Qureshi, Every Day, p. 394.

21. Saiyid, Jinnah, p. 159.

22. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. I, p. 427.

23. Budget Debate, 1917-18, Proceedings of the Indian Legislative Council
Government of India, p. 388.

24. Raja of Mahmudabad, “Some Memories,” in The Partition of India. e<l.

Ph %f and M. D. Wainwright (London: George Allen & Unwin I,Id,.

1970), p. 385.

25. M. K. Gandhi, The Story of My Experiments With Truth ( Gandhi’s Auto
biography) , trans. Mahadev Desai (Washington: Public Affairs Press, 1948),

26. Ibid., pp. 541-42.

27. Ibid., p. 543.

28. April 24. 1918, Saiyid, Jinnah, p, 181 ,

20. Wllllngdon lo MoiiUigu, April 30, 1018, Montagu Papers, 1017 18, p, fit).

notes 377

30. Chelmsford to Montagu, September 17, 1918, Chelmsford Papers, v. 4,
Reel 2. 379.

31. Saiyid, Jinnah, p, 184.

32. Ibid., p. 188.

33. Bolitho, Jinnah, p. 75.

34. Saiyid, Jinnah, pp. 199—200.

35. Gandhi to Jinnah, July 4, 1918, in Syed Sharifuddin Pirzada, ed., Quaid-
e-Azam Jinnah’s Correspondence, 3d. rev. ed. (Karachi: East and West Publishing
Company, 1977), p. 82.

36. Gandhi, My Experiments, p. 545.

37. Gandhi to Maffey, August 9, 1918, Chelmsford Papers, 20, 46.

38. Gandhi, My Experiments, pp. 551—54.

39. C. H. Philips, ed., The Evolution of India and Pakistan, 1858 to 1947.
Selected Documents (London: George Allen & Unwin Ltd., 1962), pp. 267—68.

40. Saiyid, Jinnah, pp. 223-25.

41. Ibid., p. 211.

42. Ibid., p. 213.

43. The marble plaque inscription on the wall, Syed Hashim Raza, “The
Charisma of Quaid-i-Azam,” in Papers [IV, I], vol. V, p. 207.

CHAPTER 5: AMRITSAR TO NAGPUR (1919-1921)

1. Mohammad Yusuf Khan, The Glory of Quaid-i-Azam (Lahore: Caravan
Book Centre, 1976), pp. 30-31.

2. Saiyid, Jinnah, pp. 238-39.

3. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. I, p. 475.

4. Chaman Lai, “The Quaid-i-Azam As I Knew Him,” in Ahmad, Quaid-i-
Azam, p. 167.

5. Lloyd to Montagu, June 12, 1919, Montagu Papers, Reel 5, MSS EUR
D 523/24.

6. This and the following quotes from the same interview were reported in the
Bombay Chronicle, November 17, 1919, in the Chelmsford Papers, Reel 2.

7. Gandhi to Jinnah, June 28, 1919, CWMG, [III, 15] vol. XV, pp. 398-99.

8. Lady Dhanavati Rama Rao’s personal recollection of Ruttie related to the
author in Los Angeles, March 14, 1979. Another old friend of Ruttie, Mrs. P.
Jayakar, reported much the same characteristics as dominant in an interview in
Los Angeles on May 15, 1981.

9. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. I, pp. 517-27.

10. Ibid., p. 543-44.

11. Ibid., p. 544.

12. Judith Brown, Gandhis Rise To Poiver: Indian Politics, 1915-1922 (Cam¬
bridge: Cambridge University Press, 1972), p. 273.

13. Jinnah’s letter dated 27-10-20 is reproduced in M. R. Jayakar, The Story
of My Life (Bombay: Asia Publishing House, 1958), vol. I, p. 405.

14. Gandhi to Jinnah, October 25, 1920, CWMG [III, 15], vol. XVIII, p. 372.

15. Saiyid, Jinnah, pp. 264-65.

16. CWMG [Iir, 15], vol. XIX, pp. 159-62.

17. Times of India , January 13, 1921, in Harris, Quaid-i-Azam, p. 128.

18. Dr. Naccm Quershi, Papers , [ IV, 11 vol. V, n. 229.

19. [ainfl-ucl-Din Ahmad, Glimpses of Qua la iAzam (Karachi: Education
Press, lOflO), p. 2.

21). Slv In Viceroy C Ilmlimlot'd, Nagpur, lanuarv I. 1921, Chelmsford Pavers,
XXVI, 2 I,

378

NOTES

CHAPTER 6: RETREAT TO BOMBAY (1921-1924)

1. Chagla, Roses in December, p. 120.

2. Ibid.

3. Saiyid, Jinruxh, pp. 269—72. The quotes that follow are from Chagla, Roses
in December, pp. 276-79.

4. Young India, 18-8-21, in CWMG [III, 15], vol. XX, p. 527.

5. Jayakar, Story, vol. I, p. 504.

6. “Notes,” December 20, 1921, CWMG [III, 15], vol. XXII, pp. 66-67.

7. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. I, p. 557.

8. Bombay Chronicle, January 14, 1922, CWMG [III, 15], vol. XXII, p. 178.

9. Young India, 19-1-21, ibid., p. 218.

10. Young India, 16-2-22, ibid., pp. 415-16.

11. Jayakar, Story, vol. I, p. 555.

12. Ibid.

13. Ibid., p. 567.

14. Dwarkadas, Ruttie, pp. 24-25.

15. Ibid., p. 26.

16. Chagla, Roses in December, pp. 118—19.

17. Raja of Mahmudabad, “Some Memories,” p. 385.

CHAPTER 7: NEW DELHI (1924-1928)

1. K. M. Panikkar and A. Pershad, eds., The Voice of Freedom: Selected
Speeches of Pandit Motilal Nehru (London: Asia Publishing House, 1961),

2. M. Rafique Afzal, Quaid-i-Azam Mohammad Ali Jinnah: Speeches in the
Legislative Assembly of India, 1924-30 (Lahore: Research Society of Pakistan,
1976), p. xxi.

3. February 14, 1924, ibid., p. 8.

4. February 11, 1924, ibid., p. 5.

5. February 14, 1924, ibid., p. 9.

6. Ibid., pp. 21-22.

7. Ibid., p. 56.

8. Ibid., p. 57.

9. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. I, pp. 576-77.

10. Ibid., p. 577.

11. Ibid., p. 581.

12. Gandhi to Motilal Nehru, August 9, 1924 CWMG [III, 15], vol. XXIV,
p. 536.

13. Pattabhi Sitaramayya, The History of the Indian National Congress
(1885-1935) (Bombay: Padma Publications Ltd., 1935), vol. I, p. 269.

14. Jawaharlal Nehru, Toward Freedom (New York: The John Day Company,

1941), pp. 108,25. J 7 1 7

15. Sitaramayya, Indian National Congress, vol. I, pp. 272-73.

16. August 31, 1924, CWMG [III, 15], vol. XXV, p. 6.

17. Dwarkadas, Ruttie, p. 27.

18. Ibid., pp. 27-28.

19. Ibid., pp. 29-30. The next quote is on p, 30.

20. April 7. 1925, ibid., pp. 31-32.

21. April 12, 1025, ibid., pp. 33-35.

22. June 5, 1925, ibid,, p. 33.

NOTES

379

23. Ibid., p. 41.

24. December 19, 1925, Qureshi, Every Day, p. 394. “. . . Plain Mr. Jinnah”
is the title of vol. I of selections from Shamsul Hasan Collection by Syed Shamsul
Hasan, secretary to the Muslim League (Karachi: Royal Book Company, 1976).

25. Dwarkadas, Ruttie, p. 43.

26. Ibid., pp. 45-46.

27. Hasan, Collection, p. 83.

28. Only Clement Attlee, one of the two Labour members on the commission,
attained great distinction.

29. Second Earl of Birkenhead, F. E. The Life of F. E. Smith, First Earl of
Birkenhead (London: Eyre & Spottiswoode, 1960), p. 514.

30. July 4, 1927, National Archives of Pakistan, F/15, 20.

31. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. II, p. 114.

32. Ibid., p. 127.

CHAPTER 8: CALCUTTA (1928)

1. Chagla, Roses in December, p. 94.

2. Young India, February 2, 1918, CWMG [III, 15], vol. XXXVI, p. 15.

3. Birkenhead to Irwin, January 19, 1928, Second Earl of Birkenhead, F. E.
Smith, p. 515.

4. Ibid., p. 516.

5. Report of the Committee, All Parties Conference, 1928 (Allahabad: All-
India Congress Committee, 1928), p. 21.

6. Nehru to Gandhi, February 23, 1928, CWMG [III, 15], vol. XXXVI, p. 58.

7. The proposals are in Jinnah’s pamphlet, “History of the Origin of ‘Fourteen
Points/” in Anmad Saeed, Writings of the Quaid-E-Azam (Lahore: Progressive
Books, n.d.), pp. 48-49.

8. Ibid., p. 54.

9. Irwin to Birkenhead, March 15, 1928, IOL, MSS EUR C 152/29, in
Waheed Ahmad, Jinnah-lrwin Correspondence ( 1927-1930) (Lahore: Research
Society of Pakistan: 1969), p. 9.

10. Second Earl of Birkenhead, F. E. Smith, p. 519.

11. Ruttie’s letter was written on Taj stationery, 30-3-28, National Archives
of Pakistan, 29.

12. Saiyid, Jinnah, pp. 400-2.

13. Lai, “Quaid-i-Azam,” p. 172.

14. Ibid.

15. Ibid.

16. Chagla, Roses in December, p. 95.

17. Ibid,, p. 96.

18. All Parties Conference, p. 42.

19. Press conference, October 26, 1918, in Qureshi, Every Day, p. 337.

20. Saiyid, Jinnah, p. 413.

21. Motilal Nehru to Tinnah, October 28, 1928, National Archives of Pakistan
F/15.

22. Jinnah to Motilal Nehru, November 2, 1928, Pirzada, Quaid-e-Azam,
p. 289. '

23. Mohammed Ayoob Khvihro, "My Personal Contacts and Impression About
Quaid-i-Aznm Mr. M. A. Tiiuiub,” Papers ffV, 1], vol. V, p. 36.

24. Motilal Nehru's ^Confidential Note" in M. 11. Jayakar Papers, File No.
442, All Parties Conference, 1923, pn, 23H 39.

25. Calcutta, Dwormbor 20 30, I92M, Plr/wla, Foundations, vol, II, p, 139.

380

NOTES

26. Chagla, Roses in December, p. 96.

27. Saiyid, Jinnah, p. 419.

28. Ibid., pp. 426-27.

29. Saiyid, Jinnah, pp. 428-29.

30. Ibid., pp. 432-35.

CHAPTER 9: SIMLA (1929-1930)

1. Aga Kahn, Memoirs [II, 26], p. 221.

2. Ibid., p.222.

3. Dwarkadas, Ruttie, p. 56.

4. Lai, “Quaid-i-Azam,” pp. 172-73.

5. Dwarkadas, Ruttie, p. 57.

6. Ibid., p. 58.

7. Chagla, Roses in December, p. 121.

8. March 12, 1929, Qureshi, Every Day, pp. 85-86.

9. Hasan, Collection, p. 48.

10. Though originally fifteen in number, the last two points were merged in
order to limit the number to that which echoed President Wilson’s famous “Four¬
teen Points.”

11. Hasan, Collection, p. 48.

12. Saiyid, Jinnah, pp. 437-38.

13. Hasan, Collection, pp. 48-49.

14. Irwin to Dawson, May 20, 1929, Ahmad, Correspondence, p. 13.

15. Panikkar and Pershad, Voice of Freedom, p. 62nl8.

16. Ibid., p. 54nll.

17. Saiyid, Jinnah, pp. 450-51.

18. Ibid., p. 453. The following quotes are from ibid., pp. 456-59.

19. Irwin’s report quoted in Second Earl of Birkenhead, F. E. Smith, p. 522.

20. Ibid., p. 523. e

21 MacDonald to Jinnah, August 14, 1929, National Archives of Pakistan,
r 15/5.

„ 22 ;„ J innah t0 MacDonald, September 7, 1929, National Archives of Pakistan,
r 15/7.

23. Irwin to Jinnah, October 1929, National Archives of Pakistan 1S/15-17.
The following quote is ibid, p, 18.

24. Saiyid, Jinnah, p. 465.

25. Gandhi to Nehru, November 8, 1929, CWMG [III, 15], vol. XLII, p. 1 HI,

26. Minutes of that meeting taken by Sir George Cunningham, Irwin’s privalo
secretary, were mailed to Jinnah on December 27, 1929 (National Archives of
Pakistan F/15, 53-9, from which all quotes of the meeting are taken). The bomb
that rocked the viceroy’s train was planted and ignited by the revolutionary

ashpal (1903 76), a leader of the Hindustan Socialist Republican Army, whose
autobiography, edited and translated by Corinne Friend, was recently published
as Yashpal Looks Back (Delhi: Vikas Publishing House, 1981).

27. National Archives of Pakistan, F/15 54

28. Ibid., F/15, 55-56.

29. Ibid., p. 57,

30. Ibid., F/15, 58-59.

31. Sitaramayya, Indian National Congress, vol. In, 363,

32. Saiyid, Jinnah , p. 469.

33. Sapru to Jinimli, (anuary 5, 1930, National Arch Ivon of Pakistan. V/IU 17,

34. May 2(), 1930. Anrnac!, Correspondence, pp, ,'JH 39 ,

NOTES

381

35. Gandhi to Irwin, May 18, 1930, CWMG [III, 15], vol. XLIII, pp. 411-16.

36. Ibid., p. 416.

37. Jinnah to Irwin, June 24, 1930, Ahmad, Correspondence, p. 41—42.

38. July 23, 1930, CWMG [III, 15], vol. XLIV, pp. 42-43.

39. Ibid., p. 44.

40. Jinnah to Irwin, August 6, 1930, Ahmad, Correspondence, pp. 43—44.

41. CWMG [III, 15], vol. XLIV, p. 81.

42. Jinnah to Irwin, August 19, 1930, Ahmad, Correspondence, pp. 46-47.

43. Appen, III, CWMG [III, 15], vol. XLIV, pp. 470-71.

44. Jinnah to Irwin, September 9, 1930, Ahmad, Correspondence, p. 51.

CHAPTER 10: LONDON (1930-1933)

1. The Times (London), Thursday, November 13,1930, p. 14.

2. Hailey to Irwin, November 14, 1930, Indian Office Library, London, MSS
EUR E. 220-34.

3. R. J. Moore, The Crisis of Indian Unity, 1917-1940 (Delhi: Oxford Uni¬
versity Press, 1974), p. 126.

4. Aga Khan, Memoirs [II, 26], p. 228.

5. Indian Round Table Conference, 12 November 1930—19 January 1931:
Proceedings (Cmd. 3778) (London: His Majesty’s Stationery Office, 1931), p, 32.

6. Wrench, Immortal Years, p. 133.

7. Round Table [X, 51, p. 146.

8. Ibid., p. 147.

9. Ibid., p. 149.

10. Round Table [5] November 21, 1930, p. 182.

11. Hailey to Irwin, December 13, 1930, India Office Library, London, MSS
EUR E. 220-34.

12. Hailey to Irwin, December 15, 1930, ibid.

13. MacDonald to Bennett, December 23, 1930, “India Round Table Con¬
ference, 1930,” MacDonald Papers, Public Record Office, Kew, 30/69/1/578 II.

14. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. II, p. 159.

15. MacDonald Papers, Public Record Office [X, 13].

16. Kanji Dwarkadas, India’s Fight for Freedom, 1913-1937 (Bombay: Popu¬
lar Prakashan: 1966), p. 385.

17. Ziauddin Ahmad, ed., Mohammad Ali Jinnah: Founder of Pakistan (Kara¬
chi: Ministiy of Information & Broadcasting, Government of Pakistan, 1976),
p. 89.

18. Round Table [5], January 19, 1931, p. 512.

19. Simon to Dube, National Archives of Pakistan, February 26, 1931,
F/15, 92.

20. Bolitho, Jinnah, p. 101.

21. E. C. Mieville, Willingdon’s private secretary, to Jinnah, March 17, 1931,
National Archives of Pakistan, F/15,109.

22. Sir A. P. Patro to Jinnah, March 19, 1931, ibid., p. 110.

23. MacDonald to Jinnah, June 18, 1931, ibid., p. 141.

24. Henderson to Jinnah, May 5, 1931, ibid., p. 135.

25. Raza, “The Charisma of Quaid-i-Azam” in Papers [IV, 1], vol. V, p. 209.

26. Maroon to finnah, March 24, 1931, National Archives of Pakistan. F/15,

11,5-16.

27. Palm lo Jinnuh, March 19. 1931. ibid,, ». 112.

28. Gunillil lo Wlllingdnn, Angus! 27, 1931, CWMC (III 151, vol, XLVH,
)>. 365.

382

NOTES

29. Ibid., p. 366nl.

30. Willingdon to "My dear Prime Minister,” May 29, 1931, MacDonald
Papers, Public Record Office, Kevv 30/69/1/578 IT.

31. Rushbrook-Williams, “Evolution,” vol. I, p. 121.

32. Statement of Mr. M. A. Jinnah on the Prime Minister’s Declaration,”
National Archives of Pakistan, F/15, 163.

33. Round Table [5], p. 359.

34. Ibid., p. 361.

35. Ibid., p. 368.

36. Ibid., p. 390-98.

37. Aga Khan to Jinnah, March 29, 1931, National Archives of Pakistan,
F/15, 117.

38. Durga Das, India, From Curzon to Nehru and After (London: Collins,
1969), p. 155.

39. Round Table [5], p. 416.

40. National Archives of Pakistan, F/15, 163-64.

41. Chagla, Roses in December, p. 103.

42. Das, India, p. 154.

43. Begum Liaquat Ali Khan in an interview in Karachi, February 1980, at
her home.

44. Bolitho, Jinnah, p. 102.

45. K. K. Aziz, ed., Complete Works of Rahmat Ali (Islamabad: National
Comission on Historical and Cultural Research, 1978), vol. I, d. 4.

46. Ibid., p. 10.

47. Sir Michael O Dwyer, June 15, 1933, to the Joint Committee on Indian
Constitutional Reforms (sess. 1932-33), Minutes of Evidence (London: His
Majesty’s Stationery Office, 1934), vol. IIA, pp. 74-75.

^^48. Ibid., vol. IIC, p. 1496, q. 9598. Following quotes are from ibid., q. 9599-

49. National Archives of Pakistan, F/17.

50. Jinnah to Choudhury, March 30, 1933, Allana, Pakistan Movement,
pp. 91-92.

CHAPTER 11: LONDON-LUCKNOW (1934-1937)

1. Plasan, Collection, p. 55.

2. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. II, p. 226.

3. Ibid., p. 233.

4. Joint Committee on Indian Constitutional Reforms (sess. 1933-34), Report
390 4268 ^ vo1, I; pt ' 1 ( London: His Majesty’s Stationery Office, 1934),

5. Muslims were promised one-third of the Central Legislative Assembly soatN
and the following provincial legislative allocations: Assam, 34 out of a total of I0M
seats; Bengal, 119 out of 250; Bihar, 42 out of 175; Bombai/, 30 out of 175' Cl'
14 out of 112; Madras, 29 out of 210; NWFP, 38 out of 50; Punjab, 86 out of 175:
Sind, 34 out of 60; and UP, 66 out of 228.

6. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. IT, p. 233.

7. Hasan, Collection, p. 60.

8. Speech of February 7, 1935, in |amil-U(l-din Ahmad, ml., Some Recent
Speeches and Writings of Mr. Jinnah (Lahore: Aslmif. 1952) vol I i. ')

9. Ibid., pp, 4-6. ' ’ 1 '

10. Cimgiii, Rosas In December, p. 103.

NOTES

383

11. Winston Churchill, February 11, 1935, in the House of Commons, Philips,
Evolution, p. 316.

12. Saiyid, Jinnah, p. 529.

13. Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. I, pp. 12—15.

14. Ibid., p. 19.

15. Waheed Ahmad, ed.. Diary and Notes of Mian Fazl-I-Husain (Lahore:
Research Society of Pakistan, 1977), p. 201.

16. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. II, p. 258.

17. Ibid., p. 262.

18. Nehru to Subhas C. Bose, March 26, 1936, S. Gopal, ed., Selected Works
of Jawaharlal Nehru (New Delhi: Orient Longmans, Ltd., 1973), vol. VII, p. 407.

19. John Glendevon, The Viceroy at Bay: Lord Linlithgow in India, 1936—
1943 (London: Collins, 1971), p. 23. The following quote is in ibid., p. 25.

20. “All India Muslim League, Central Board, Policy and Programme,” in
Ahmad Saeed, Writings of the Quaid-e-Azam (Lahore: Progressive Books, n.d.),

p. 66.

21. Hasan, Collection, p. 65.

22. M. A. H. Ispahani, Quaid-e-Azam Jinnah As I Know Him, 2d. ed. (Ka¬
rachi: Forward Publications Trust, 1966), p. 1.

23. Ispahani to Jinnah, August 9, 1936, Z. H. Zaidi, ed., M. A. Jinnah—
Ispahani Correspondence, 1936—1948 (Karachi: Forward Publishing Trust, 1976),
p. 76.

24. Saeed, Quaid-e-Azam, pp. 80-81.

25. Aziz, Rahmat Ali, pp. 23-25.

26. Nehru at Ambala, January 1937, Gopal, Nehru, vol. VIII, pp. 7—8.

27. Jinnah in Calcutta, January 1937, quoted by S. R. Mehrotra, “The Con¬
gress and the Partition of India,” in Partition, ed. Philips and Wainwright,
p. 194.

28. Gopal, Nehru, vol. VIII, p. 119.

29. Ibid., p. 121.

30. Ibid., p. 8.

31. Das, India, pp. 181-82.

32. Nehru, March 22, 1937, quoted by Z. H. Zaidi, “Aspects of the Develop¬
ment of Muslim League Policy, 1937-47,” in Partition, ed. Philips and Wain¬
wright, p. 256.

33. Dwarkadas, India’s Fight, p. 467.

34. Das, India, p. 182.

35. Choudry Khaliquzzaman, Pathway to Pakistan (Lahore: Pakistan Long¬
mans, 1961), p. 161.

36. Dwarkadas, India’s Fight, pp. 466-67. The following quote is ibid.

37. Gandhi to Jinnah, May 22, 1937, CWMG [III, 15], vol. LXV, p. 231.

38. Interview with Mr. Ispahani in his London home, summer of 1978.

39. Muhammad Yusuf Saraf, “Quaid-i-Azam in Kashmir,” Papers [IV, 1],
vol. I, p. 84.

40. Ahmad, Glimpses, p. 11.

41. Khaliquzzaman, Pathway, p. 170.

42. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. TT, pp. 265-73.

CHAPTER 12; TOWARD LAHORE (J938-1940)

I. Resolution II, adopted October 17, 1937 at Lucknow, Plfssiuln, Foundations,
vol, II, p. 274,

384

NOTES

2. Resolution VI, ibid., p. 278. On November 1, 1937, Congress’s Working
Committee explained its position on Bande Mataram, stating:

This song appears in Bankim Chandra Chatterji’s novel “Anandamatha”,
but it . . . was written independently of, and long before the novel, and
was subsequently ... set to music by Rabindranath Tagox-e in 1896. The
song and the words “Bande Mataram” were considered seditious by the
British Government. ... At a famous session of the Bengal Provincial
Conference held in Barisal in April 1906 ... a brutal lathi charge was
made by the police on the delegates and volunteers and the “Bande
Mataram” badges worn by them were violently torn off. . . . The words
“Bande Mataram” became a slogan of power which inspired our people,
and a greeting which ever remind us of our struggle for national freedom.
Reprinted in Muslims Under Congress Rule, 1937—1939: A Documentary Record,
ed. K. K. Aziz (Islamabad: National Commission on Historical and Cultural Re¬
search, 1978), vol. I, p. 120.

3. Resolution XIV, Lucknow League, Pirzada, Foundations, vol. II, p. 280.

4. Mukhtar Zaman, Students’ Role in the Pakistan Movement (Karachi:
Quaid-i-Azam Academy, 1978), p. 25.

5. Ibid., p. 29.

6. February 5, 1938, Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. I, p. 42.

7. Ibid., pp. 43-45.

8. Nehru to Jinnah, January 18, 1939, quoted in Kailash Chandra, Tragedy
of Jinnah (Lahore: Varma Publishing Company, 1943), p. 140.

9. Jinnah to Nehru, January 25, 1938, ibid., p. 141.

10. Nehru to Jinnah, February 4, 1938, ibid., pp. 146-47.

11. Jinnah to Nehru, February 17, 1938, ibid., p. 149.

12. Gandhi to Jinnah, February 24, 1939, Saiyid, Jinnah, p. 586.

13. Jinnah to Gandhi, March 3, 1938, ibid., pp. 586-87.

14. Jinnah to Ispahani, April 12,1938, Zaidi, Correspondence, p. 106.

15. National Archives of Pakistan, F/77, quoted by Z. H. Zaidi, “M. A,
Jinnah—The Man,” Papers [IV, 1], vol. Ill, p. 45.

16. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. II, p. 292.

17. Ibid., pp. 293-95.

18. Gandhi to Nehru, April 30, 1938, ibid., p. 56.

19. Jinnah presided over the Working Committee, whose first twenty-two
members were his personal choices in mid-1938: Liaquat Ali Khan, who served
as secretary; Haji Abdullah Haroon of Sind; Maulana Shaukat Ali of UP; Abdul
Majid Sindhi of Sind; Malik Barkat Ali of Punjab; Sir Currimbhai Ibrahim of
Bombay; Choudhry Khaliquzzaman of UP; Abdul Matin Choudhari of Assn till
Sayed Abdul Rauf Shah of CP; Sardar Aurangeb Khan of NWFP; Sir Sikundei
Hyat Khan of Punjab; Nawab Mohammad Ismail Khan of UP; Haji Abdul Sulim
Seth of Madras; Sir A. M. K. Dehlavi of Bombay; Fazlul Haq of Bengal; Hit
Nazimuddin of Bengal; Sayed Abdul Aziz of Bihar; K. B. Sadullah of NWI'T
Raja Amir Ahmad Khan of UP; Abdul Rahman Siddique of Bengal; and Mo
hammad Ashiq Warsi of Bihar.

20. R. J. Moore, Churchill, Cripps, and India, 1939-1945 (Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1979), p. 4.

21. June 29, 1938, ibid., p. 29.

22. Second Marquess of Zetland, “ EssayezThe Memoirs of Lawrence, Sat)
ond Marquess of Zetland (Loudon: John Murray, 1956), p. 247. Nullonnl Ai
chives of Pakistan, F/1095 confirms the appointment with Mr. )iiiniih al llir vice
regal lodge in Simla on Tuesday, August Ml. 1938, al 6;3(> r.M.

23. Zetland, " Essayez

NOTES

385

24. Legislative Assemblv, August 23, 1938, Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. I,
pp. 56-57.

25. Karachi, October 8, 1938, Aziz, Muslims, pp. 161-62 (italics added).

26. Saiyid, Jinnah, pp. 623-24 (italics added).

27. Ibid., p. 624.

28. “English Translation of Original Address of Welcome,” October 9, 1938,
from the Urdu, National Archives of Pakistan, F/160, 339-40.

29. Karachi, October 13, 1938, ibid., pp. 238—40.

30. Ali to Jinnah, October 14, 1938, ibid., p. 216.

31. Mehdi, Report, pp. 1-2.

32. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. II, pp. 304-6.

33. Ibid., p. 324.

34. Ibid., p. 317.

35. Ibid.

36. Khurshid Ara Begum Nawab Siddiq Ali Khan, “Women and Indepen¬
dence,” in Quaid-i-Azam and Muslim Women (Karachi: National Book Founda¬
tion, 1976), p. 55.

37. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. II, p. 319.

38. Gandhi to Mirabehn, January 16, 1939, CWMG [III, 15], vol. LXVIII,
p. 303.

39. Aziz, Muslims, p. 403.

40. Ibid., append., p. 565.

41. Associated Chambers of Commerce of India, annual meeting in Calcutta,
December 19, 1938, Marquess of Linlithgow, Speeches and Statements (New
Delhi: Bureau of Public Information, 1945), p. 152.

42. Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. I, pp. 90—93.

43. Ibid., p. 94.

44. May 30, 1939, Little Gibbs Road, Bombay, National Archives of Pakistan,
F/76, 2.

45. Ibid., p. 3.

46. Glendevon, Linlithgow, pp. 136—37.

47. Ibid., p. 138.

48. Ibid., p. 136.

49. All three drafts are in Gopal, Nehru, vol. X, pp. 122-38.

50. Ibid., pp. 124—29.

51. Linlithgow to Zetland, September 18, 1939, Moore, Churchill, pp. 18—19.

52. September 24, 1939, CWMG [III, 15], vol. LXX, p. 197.

53. September 25, 1939, ibid., pp. 205-6.

54. Glendevon, Linlithgow, p. 142.

55. Nehru to V. K. Krishna Menon, September 26, 1939, Gopal, Nehru, vol.
X, pp. 163-64.

56. Glendevon, Linlithgow, p. 150.

57. Sarvepalli Gopal, Jawaharlal Nehru, vol. I (Cambridge, Mass: Harvard
University Press, 1976), p. 253.

58. Gopal, Nehru, vol. X, p. 185.

59. October 18, 1939, CWMG [III, 15], vol. LXX, pp. 267-68.

60. Append. Ill, ibid., pp. 419-20.

61. Rangaswami Parthasnrathy, A Hundred Years of The Hindu (Madras:
KftSturi & Sons, Ltd., n.d.), p. 512.

62. October 30, 1939. CWMG [III, 15], vol. LXX, pp. 318-19.

63. November 4,1939, Ibid., p. 328.

64. Copul, Nehru, vol, X, p. 226.

65. November 7. 1939. CWMG |lll, IB], vol. LXX, p. 335,

386 NOTES

66 . Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. I, p. 105.

67. John Morley, On Compromise (London: Macmillan & Co., 1921), p. 56.

68 . Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. I, p. 110.

69. Ibid., pp. 110-11.

70. December 8, 1939, CWMG [III, 15], vol. LXXI, p. 16.

71. Nehru to Jinnah, December 9, 1939, Pirzada, Quaid-e-Azam, p. 271.

72. Bombay Sentinel, December 9, 1939, quoted by M. A. H. Ispahani, “Non-
Muslim Reaction” in Reminiscences of The Day of Deliverance (Islmabad: Na¬
tional Committee for Birth Centenary Celebrations of Quaid-i-Azam Mohammnd
Ali Jinnah, 1976), p. 13.

73. Ispahani to Jinnah, December 12, 1939, Zaidi, Correspondence, pp,

74. Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. I, p. 112. The next six quotes are all from
ibid., pp. 113-17.

75. Gandhi to Nehru, December 28, 1939, CWMG [III, 15], vol. LXXI,

p. 65.

76. Moore, Churchill, p. 9. The following quote is from ibid., p. 13.

77. Glendevon, Linlithgow, p. 160.

78. January 10, 1940, append. II, CWMG [III, 15], vol. LXXI, pp. 433-35,

79. “Constitutional Maladies of India,” in Gopal, Nehru, vol. I, pp. 128$.

80. Jinnah, “My Brother.”

81. Glendevon, Linlithgow, p. 194.

82. M. M. Shafi, “The Historic League Session,” in Ahmad. Quaid-i-Az/nn,
pp. 124-25.

83. Ibid., p. 125.

84. Ibid., p. 126.

85. Bolitho, Jinnah, p. 128.

86 . Pirzada, Foundations, vol. II, p. 327.

87. Ibid., pp. 327-30.

88 . Ibid., pp. 332-33.

89. February 27, 1940, Gopal, Nehru, vol. X, pp, 337-38.

90. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. II, pp. 335-37. All of the following quotes, till
the end of this chapter are from ibid., pp. 337—39.

CHAPTER 13: LAHORE TO DELHI (1940-1942)

1. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. II, p. 340.

2. Ibid., p. 341,

3. Glendevon, Linlithgow, p. 167.

4. April 1, 1940, CWMG [III, 15], vol. LXXI, pp. 387-88.

5. Parthasarathy, The Hindu, p. 533.

6 . Nehru to Krishna Menon, April 12, 1940, Gopal, Nehru, vol. XI, p. 1(1,

7. Maulana Abul Kalam Azad, India Wins Freedom (New York: I .migiinuiN,
Green & Co., 1960), p. 38.

8 . Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. I, p. 182.

9. Linlithgow to Jinnah, April 19, 1940, Pirzada, Quakl-e-Azam, j>. 201.

10. Parthasarathy, The Hindu, p. 534.

11. May 26, 1940, CWMG [III, 15], vol. LXXI1, pp. ]00-101.

12. Pirzada, Quaid-e-Azam, p, 202.

13. Ibid., p. 203.

14. Jinnah lo Lailhwiiilc. Simla. July I. 1910. Ibid,, p. 204. The loth
quote is from ibid,, pp, 205 -0,

15. |ill v 2. 1040. CWMG |lll. 15], vol. I.XXII. pp, •.',29-31,

NOTES 387

16. Tej Bahadur Sapru et al., Constitutional Proposals of the Sapru Committee
I (Bombay: Padmar Publications, 1945), September 2, 1940, p. 47.

17. Glendevon, Linlithgow, p. 184. The following quotes are from ibid.

18. October 24, 1940, Gopal, Nehru, vol. XI, p. 193n3.

19. Kanji Dwarkadas, Ten Years To Freedom (Bombay: Popular Prakashan,
1968), p. 55.

20. Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. I, p. 204.

21. Ibid., p. 205.

22. Shah Nawaz Khan, “What is Pakistan?,” National Archives of Pakistan,

I I F/1099, pp. 18$.

23. Jinnah, “My Brother.”

24. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. II., p. 359.

25. Ibid., pp. 360-61.

26. Ibid., pp. 368-70.

27. Ibid., p. 371.

28. Jinnah, “My Brother.”

29. Lumley to Jinnah, July 20, 1941, Pirzada, Quaid-e-Azam, pp. 215-16.

30. September 8,1941, Zaidi, Correspondence, append. Ill, pp. 650-51.

31. Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. I, p. 341.

32. November 13, 1941, Glendevon, Linlithgow, p. 210.

33. December 2, 1941, ibid., p. 212.

34. December 26, 1941, Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. I, p. 348.

35. Ispahani to Jinnah, December 8, 1941, Zaidi, Correspondence, p. 222.

36. December 26, 1941, Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. I, p. 364.

37. Lumley to Linlithgow, January 15, 1942, Nicholas Mansergh, ed., The
I'ransfer of Power, 1942-7 (London: Her Majesty’s Stationery Office, 1970), vol.
I l.pp. 25-26.

38. January 21, 1942, ibid., p. 48.

39. January 24,1942, ibid., p. 75.

40. Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. I, p. 368.

41. February 15, 1942, ibid., pp. 370-71.

42. February 21, 1942, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. I, p. 218.

43. Note by Major General Lockhart, India Office, February 25, 1942, ibid.,
I |ip. 238-39.

44. Ibid., p. 240.

45. Quoted by “Former Naval Person” (Churchill) to Roosevelt, March 4,
1942, ibid., p. 310.

46. March 10, 1942, ibid., p. 395.

47. Ibid., pp. 406-7.

48. March 23, 1942, Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. I, p. 400. The following
I i(Hole is ibid., pp. 401—2.

49. Ibid., pp. 401-2.

50. March 25, 1942, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. I, p. 479.

51. Ibid., pp. 480-81.

52. Ibid., p.484.

53. March 27,1942, ibid., p. 500.

54. Ibid., p. 530.

55. A. D. K. Owen’s statement, quoted in Moore, Churchill, p. 82.

56. “And the end of the fight is a tombstone white,
with the name of the late deceased,

And the epitaph drear: ‘A fool lies here
who tried to hustle the East.”

Rudyard Kipling

388 notion

57. March 19, 1942, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. I, p. 445.

58. Bajpai to Linlithgow, April 2, 1942, ibid., p. 619.

59. April 3-6, 1942, Pirzada, Foundations, vol. II, pp. 383-84.

60. April 9, 1942, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. I, p. 704.

61. April 10, 1942, ibid., pp. 729-30.

62. April 13, 1942, Abmad, Recent Speeches, vol. I, pp. 415—19.

63. April 10, 1942, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. I, p. 733.

64. Roosevelt to Hopkins, for Churchill, April 11, 1942, Moore, Churchill ,
p. 130.

65. April 11, 1942, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. I, pp. 748-50.

CHAPTER 14: DAWN IN DELHI (1942-1943)

1. April 11, 1942, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. I, pp. 757—58.

2. Glancy to Linlithgow, April 14, 1942, ibid., pp. 772-73.

3. April 16, 1942, ibid., pp. 789-90.

4. Ibid., p. 815.

5. Ibid., p. 842.

6. April 24, 1942, CWMG [III, 15], vol. LXXVI, pp. 63-65.

7. June 6, 1942, ibid., p. 187.

8. Ibid., p. 197.

9. June 11, 1942, ibid., p. 213.

10. Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. I, pp. 422-24.

11. All-India Congress Committee, August 7, 1942, CWMG [III, 15], vol
LXXVI, pp. 377-81.

12. Ibid.

13. Glancy to Linlithgow, July 17, 1942, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, Vfljj
II, p. 404.

14. August 8,1942, CWMG [III, 15], vol. LXXVI, p. 382.

15. July 1942, Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. I, pp. 432-33.

16. August 8,1942, CWMG [III, 15], vol. LXXVI, pp. 391-92.

17. Ibid., p. 403.

18. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. II, pp. 395-96.

19. Linlithgow to Amery, August 12, 1942, Mansergh, Transfer of PdiOffa
vol. II, p. 669.

20. Ibid., p. 708.

21. Linlithgow to Amery, August 15, 1942, ibid, pp. 708-9.

22. August 17, 1942, ibid., pp. 740-41.

23. Aiyar to Linlithgow, August 19, 1942, ibid., p. 749.

24. August 24, 1942, ibid., pp. 810-11.

25. Halifax to Eden, August 28, 1942, ibid., p. 839.

26. Linlithgow to Churchill, August 31, 1942, ibid., pp. 853-54.

27. September 1,1942, ibid., p. 877.

28. Ibid., pp. 874—75.

29. September 5,1942, ibid., p. 908.

30. September 13, 1942, Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. I, pp. 449//.

31. Halifax to Eden, September 16, 1942, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, villi
II, p. 970.

32. Churchill to Amery, in Enclosure No. 2 from Sir A. R, Mmlulliti In Nil
G. Laithwaite, September 21, 1942, ibid., vol. III. p, 3.

33. Churchill to Linlithgow. September 24, 1942, Ibid., i>. 37.

34. Append. A to No, 153, October 21. 1942, Ibid.. |»p. 213 13,

35. November 9, 1942, Almmd, Hiwenl Sfwevhes, vol. I, p, 404,

NOTES

389

36. November 13, 1942, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. Ill, p. 243.

37. Linlithgow to Amery, November 16, 1942, ibid., p. 266.

38. Annex to No. 187, “Report by a Reliable Informant,” ibid., pp. 268-70.

39. Amery to Linlithgow, November 17, 1942, ibid., pp. 278-79.

40. Ispahani to Jinnah, December 17 and 26, 1942, Zaidi, Correspondence,
pp. 313-14.

41. Gandhi to Linlithgow, January 29, 1943, CWMG [III, 15], vol. LXXVII,
pp. 55-56.

42. Linlithgow to Amery, February 2, 1943, Mansergh, Transfer of Power,
vol. Ill, p. 570.

43. Amery to Linlithgow, February 8, 1943, ibid., p. 617.

44. Ibid., pp. 631-32.

45. Gandhi to Sir Richard Tottenham, February 8, 1943, CWMG [III, 15],
Vol. LXXVII, p. 61.

46. Linlithgow to Amery, February 15, 1943, Mansergh, Transfer of Power,
vol. Ill, pp. 667-68.

47. February 16, 1943, ibid., p. 670.

48. Times of India, February 16, 1943, ibid.

49. Linlithgow to Amery, February 17, 1943, ibid., p. 683.

50. February 18, 1943, ibid., pp. 684-85.

51. CWMG [III, 15], vol. LXXVII, p. 69nl.

52. Churchill to Linlithgow, February 25, 1943, Mansergh, Transfer of Power,
Vol. Ill, p. 730.

53. Lumley to Linlithgow, March 4, 1943, ibid., p. 760.

54. Haq to Jinnah, February 5, 1943, Pirzada, Quaid-e-Azam, pp. 79-80.

55. Jinnah to Haq, February 10, 1943, ibid., p. 81.

56. Ispahani’s note of their telephone conversation, March 17, 1943, Zaidi,
Vorrespondence, p. 328.

57. Ispahani to Jinnah, March 26, 1943, ibid., p. 334.

58. Ibid.

59. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. II, p. 399.

60. Ibid., p. 407.

01. Ibid., p. 420.

02. “Strictly Secret Note” on the proceedings at Delhi, April 24-6, 1943,
Mim.sergh, Transfer of Power, vol. Ill, pp. 918-20.

63. Ibid., p. 922.

04. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. II, p. 422.

CHAPTER 15: KARACHI AND BOMBAY REVISITED (1943-1944)

1. Gandhi to Jinnah, May 4, 1943, CWMG [III, 15], vol. LXXVII, p. 75.

2. Linlithgow to Amery, May 8, 1943, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. Ill,

11 053.

3. Amery to Linlithgow, May 9, 1943, ibid., p. 955.

•I. Amery to Linlithgow, May 19, 1943, ibid., p. 996.

5. Amery to Linlithgow, May 24, 1943, ibid., p. 1004.

II. Clancy to Linlithgow, May 29, 1943, ibid., pp. 1025—26.

7 . Linlithgow to Amery, June 6, 1943, ibid., p. 1045.

H. June 10,1943, ibid., p. 1053.

!), Lord Linlithgow’. 1 ! marginal note in ibid., vol. IV, p. 36.

10. Pendorol Moon, <•«!., Wavell: Tthe Viceroys Journal (Karachi: Oxford
H.iivoi'Nlty I’m,ss, 1074), p. II.

11. Ibid., p, 12.

390

391

NOTION

12. Ibid., p. 23.

13. July 3, 1943, Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. I, p. 567. The following quoin
is from ibid., p. 568.

14. Ibid., pp. 570-71.

15. Herbert to Linlithgow, July 5, 1943, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol
IV, pp. 44—45.

16. A. A. Peerbhoy, Jinnah Faces An Assassin (Bombay: Thacker & Co,,
1943), trial transcript, pp. 60-61.

17. Ibid., p. 77.

18. Jinnah to Ispahani, August 3, 1943, Zaidi, Correspondence, p. 365.

19. July 26, 1943, Qureshi, Every Day, p. 223.

20. September 15, 1943, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. IV, p. 260. Tim
following quote is from ibid., p. 261.

21. Glancy to Linlithgow, September 16, 1943, ibid., p. 269,

22. Ispahani to Jinnah, September 8, 1943, Zaidi, Correspondence, pp. 372-7M

23. October 31, 1943, Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. II, p. 3.

24. November 15, 1943, ibid., p. 4.

25. November 8, 1943, ibid., pp. 6-10.

26. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. II, p. 461.

27. Ibid., pp. 450-51.

28. Ibid., p. 466.

29. Jinnah, “My Brother.”

30. Jinnah to Abdul Aziz, January 2, 1944, Syed Shamsul Hasan Collection,
Karachi, Madras, vol. I. Hereafter cited as Hasan Collection.

31. February 2, 1944, Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. II, pp. 52-53.

32. March 4,1944, ibid., pp. 71-72.

33. Twynam to Wavell, April 9, 1944, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. IV
p. 873.

34. Mudie to Jenkins, April 14, 1944, ibid., p. 879.

35. Moon, Wavell, p. 63.

36. Wavell to Amery, April 16, 1944, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol IN'
p. 883.

37. May 5, 1944, ibid., p. 952.

38. Amery to Wavell, May 11,1944, ibid., p. 965.

39. Wavell to Amery, May 1, 1944, ibid., p. 941.

40. June 12, 1944, ibid., pp. 1022-23.

41. June 20, 1944, ibid., p. 1035. The following quote is from ibid.

42. Moon, Wavell, p. 81.

43. Hallett to Wavell, June 29, 1944, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol I'
p. 1058.

44. Moon, Wavell, p. 73.

45. April 8, 1944, Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. II, p. 128.

46. Gandhi to Jinnah, ibid., p. 148.

47. Jinnah to Gandhi, July 24,1944, ibid.

48. July 26, 1944, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. IV, p. 1123.

49. September 9, 1944, CWMG [III, 15], vol. LXXVIII, pp. 87-88.

50. Ibid., pp. 88-89.

51. September 12, 1944, ibid., p. 96. The following quotes are from ibid,

52. CWMG [III, 15], vol. LXXVIII, p. 98.

53. Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. II, p. 167.

54. Jinnah to Gandhi, September M, 1914, ibid., pp, 171-72.

55. Gandhi to Jinnah, September 15. 1911. CWMG |lll. 15], vol. LXXVIII

p. 101.

NOTES

56. Ibid., pp. 101-3.

57. September 22, 1944, CWMG [III, 15], vol. LXXVIII, p. 122.

58. “The Millat and Her Ten Nations,” Aziz, Rahmat Ali, vol. I, pp. 149-60.

59. Jinnah to Gandhi, September 23, 1944, Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. II,
p. 194.

60. Ibid., p. 196.

61. Jinnah to Gandhi, September 25, 1944, ibid., pp. 198-201.

62. Ibid., pp. 204-5.

63. September 25, 1944, CWMG [III, 15], vol. LXXVIII, pp. 130-31.

64. Jinnah to Gandhi, September 26, 1944, Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. II,
pp. 207-8.

65. September 26, 1944, CWMG [III, 15], vol. LXXVIII, pp. 131-32.

66 . Wavell to Amery, September 27, 1944, Mansergh, Transfer of Power,
vol. V, p. 47.

67. September 27, 1944, CWMG [III, 15], vol. LXVIII, append. XII, p. 418.

68 . September 28, 1944, ibid., pp. 136-37.

69. Ibid., p. 142.

70. September 29, 1944, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. V, pp. 56-57.

CHAPTER 16: SIMLA (1944-1945)

1. Wavell to Amery, October 3, 1944, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. V,
p. 75.

2. Ibid.

3. Amery to Wavell, October 10, 1944, ibid., p. 96.

4. Wavell to Amery, November 29, 1944, ibid., p. 252.

5. December 6, 1944, ibid., pp. 279—80.

6. Casey to Wavell, December 17,1944, ibid., p. 308.

7. Ibid., p. 309. The following quote is from ibid.

8. Wavell to Casey, January 1, 1945, ibid., p. 345.

9. December 27, 1944, Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. II, p. 345.

10. January 7, 1945, ibid., p. 347.

11. January 14, 1945, ibid., p. 350.

12. Moon, Wavell, p. 115.

13. Jinnah to I. A. K. Qaisar, March 25, 1945, Hasan Collection, vol. Ill, U. P.

14. Wavell to Amery, January 14, 1945, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. V,
p. 400.

15. Enclosure no. 202, January 17, 1945, ibid., p. 408, and pp. 411-12.

16. January 19, 1945, ibid., p. 423.

17. Ibid., p.473.

18. V. P. Menon’s report of dinner with Desai and Jenkins, January 27, 1945,
Ibid., p. 476.

19. Casey to Wavell, March 1, 1945, ibid., pp. 637-42.

20. Wavell to Amery, March 20, 1945, ibid., p. 712.

21. Jinnah to Taj Ali, December 18, 1944, Hasan Collection, vol. I, NWFP.

22. March 23,1945, Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. II, p. 361.

23. Ibicl, pp. 360-62.

24. March 25, 1945, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. V, p. 733.

25. March 26,1945, ibid., p. 735.

26. Ibid., pp. 738-40.

27. May 11, 1945, Moon, Wavell, p. 129.

28. Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. V, p. 1078.

20. Juno 14, 1945, ibid., p. 1122.

392 NOTKN

30. Wavell to Amery, June 15, 1945, ibid., pp. 1126-27.

31. June 16,1945, Moon, Wavell, p. 142.

32. June 24, 1945, ibid., pp. 144-45.

33. Ibid., p. 146. The following quote is from ibid., pp. 146—47.

34. Wavell to Amery, June 25, 1945, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. V,
pp. 1155-56. The following quotes are from ibid., pp. 1156-57.

35. July 9, 1945, Moon, Wavell, pp. 152—53.

36. Wavell to Jinnah, July 9, 1945, Pirzada, Foundations, vol. II, pp. 502-3.
The following quote is from ibid., p. 503.

37. Ibid., p. 503.

38. Amery to Wavell, July 10, 1945, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. V,
p. 1224.

39. July 11, 1945, Moon, Wavell, p. 154.

40. Ibid.

41. July 14, 1945, ibid., p. 155.

42. Wavell to Amery, July 15, 1945, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. V,
p. 1262.

43. July 12, 1945, ibid., p. 1237. The following quote is from ibid.

44. August 6, 1945, Moon, Wavell, p. 161.

CHAPTER 17: QUETTA AND PESHAWAR (1945-1946)

1. August 1, 1945, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VI, p. 6.

2. August 2,1945, ibid., pp. 22-23. The following quote is from ibid.

3. August 6, 1945, Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. II, p. 387. The following
quote is from ibid.

4. Ibid., pp. 390-91.

5. Pethick-Lawrence to Wavell, August 11, 1945, Mansergh, Transfer of
Power, vol. VI, p. 57. The following quote is from ibid., p. 58.

6. Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, August 12, 1945, ibid., p. 59.

7. Glancy to Wavell, August 16, 1945, ibid., pp. 71-72.

8. Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, August 21, 1945, ibid., p. 113. The following
quote is from ibid.

9. Cabinet minutes, August 29, 1945, ibid., pp. 174-75.

10. August 31,1945, Moon, Wavell, p. 168.

11. Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. II, p. 411.

12. Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, October 16, 1945, Mansergh, Transfer of
Power, vol. VI, p. 348.

13. October 27, 1945, Ahmad. Recent Speeches, vol. II, pp. 423—24.

14. November 1, 1945, ibid., pp. 426-28.

15. Pethick-Lawrence to Wavell, November 8, 1945, Mansergh, Transfer of
Poiver, vol. VI, p. 463.

16. Cabinet minutes, November 19,1945, ibid., p. 501.

17. Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, November 23, 1945, ibid., p. 524.

18. November 24, 1945, ibid., pp. 531-34.

19. “Secret” Intelligence Bureau enclosure, November 20, 1945, ibid., p, M i

20. November 24, 1945, Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. IT, pp. 438—39,

21. Ibid., pp. 440-43.

22. Casey to Wavell, December 2, 1945, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vnl
VI, p. 589.

23. December 3, 1945, ibid., pp. 590-91.

24. December speech to Punjab Muslim Students, Aliumd. Recent Sporehei
vol. II, p. 303.

NOTES 393

25. December 21, 1945, ibid., p. 364.

26. Pethick-Lawrence to Jinnah, December 21, 1945, Mansergh, Transfer of
Power, vol. VI, pp. 672—73.

27. February 12, 1946, Moon, Wavell, p. 211.

28. February 13, 1946, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VI, p. 948.

29. Ibid., pp. 949-50.

30. “Viability of Pakistan,” February 13, 1946, ibid., pp. 951-55.

31. Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, February 13, 1946, ibid., pp. 967-68.

32. February 18, 1946, ibid., p. 1006.

33. February 22, 1946, ibid., p. 1048.

34. March 23, 1946, ibid., vol. VII, p. 1.

35. Note by Wyatt, March 28, 1946, ibid., pp. 22-24.

36. Note by Cripps, March 30, 1946, ibid., pp. 59-60.

37. April 3, 1946, Moon, Wavell, p. 236.

38. Secretary’s report of Gandhi interview, April 3, 1946, Mansergh, Transfer
of Power, vol. VI, pp. 117-18.

39. April 4,1946, Moon, Wavell, p. 237.

40. April 4, 1946, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VII, pp. 119-21. Fol¬
lowing quotes are from ibid.

41. “Secret” note by Duckworth, April 4, 1946, ibid., p. 136.

42. “Top Secret” note by Cripps, ibid., p. 176.

43. Ibid., p. 179.

44. Ibid., p. 180.

45. April 16, 1946, Moon, Wavell, p. 246.

46. April 16, 1946, 11 a.m., Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VII, pp.
UH1-82.

47. Ibid., pp. 283-84. Following quotes are from ibid.

CHAPTER 18: SIMLA REVISITED (1946)

1. April 7-9, 1946, Pirzada, Foundations, vol. II, pp. 522-23.

2. Ibid., p. 523.

3. Ibid., pp. 514—15.

I. Ibid., pp. 516—20.

5. Ibid., pp. 523-24.

0. Record of meeting, April 25, 1946, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VII,
11 , 330.

7. April 25,1946, Moon, Wavell, p. 252.

H. April 26,1946, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VII, p. 342.

I). April 27, 1946, Moon, Wavell, p. 253.

10. May 5, 1946, ibid., p. 257. Following quote is from ibid., p. 258.

I I. May 6, 1946, Mansergh, Transfer of Poiver, vol. VII, p. 437.

12. Moon, Wavell, p. 258.

13. Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VII, p. 440.

14. May 6, 1946, Moon, Wavell, p. 260.

15. Ibid.

10. May 7, 1945, Mansergh, Transfer of Poiver, vol. VII, p. 452.

17. May 7, 1945, Moon, Wavell, p. 261.

18. May 8, 1946, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VII, pp. 462-63.

19. Ibid., pp. 464-65.

20. Ibid., p.400.

’ I. Record of tucciing, ibid,, p. 480.

‘.',3. Moon, Wavell, p. 203.

394

NOTES

395

NOTHIN

23. Nehru to Jinnah, May 10, 1946, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VII,
P 24. May 11,1946, ibid., p. 507.

25. May 13, 1946, Moon, Wavell, p. 267. Following quote is from ibid ,

p. 268.

26. Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VII, p. 591.

27. Harifan, May 17,1946, quoted in ibid., p. 615.

28. Record of meeting, May 18, 1946, ibid., p. 616.

29. Note by George Abell, May 18, 1946, ibid., p. 619.

30. Record of meeting, May 19, 1946, 11:00 a.m., ibid., p. 623.

31. May 19, 1946, Moon, Wavell, p. 273.

32. May 19,1946, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VII, p. 622.

33. Moon, Wavell, p, 273.

34. Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VII, p. 634.

35. Gandhi to Pethick-Lawrence, May 20, 1946, ibid., pp. 636-37.

36. Ibid., p. 638.

37. May 20,1946, ibid., p. 644.

38. Ibid., p. 655.

39. Record of meeting, May 24, 1946, ibid., pp. 675-78.

40. Note by Wyatt, May 25, 1946, ibid., p. 684.

41. Ibid., pp. 685—86.

42. Ibid., pp. 686-87 (Italics in original).

43. May 26,1946, ibid., pp. 705-6.

44. June 3, 1946, Moon, Wavell, pp. 285—86.

45. Note by Intelligence Bureau, June 5, 1946, Mansergh, Transfer of PnW0ft
vol. VII, pp. 819-20.

46. June 6, 1946, Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. II, pp. 402—4.

47. Ibid., p. 406.

48. June 6, 1946, Moon, Wavell, p. 288.

49. June 7, 1946, ibid.

50. Wavell’s Note of interview with Jinnah, Mansergh, Transfer of I'nwfifj
vol. VII, p. 839.

51. June 11,1946, Moon, Wavell, p. 290.

52. Record of meeting, June 11, 1946, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol VII,
p. 863n2.

53. June 12, 1946, Moon, Wavell, p. 290.

54. Mansergh, Transfer of Poioer, vol. VII, pp. 866-67; see heading him I Iom|
note, p. 867.

55. Ibid., p.867.

56. Ibid., p. 866. This was clearly Jinnah’s position from the slml, uml

Wavell’s account of it is jumbled and inaccurate, where he first notes (|. I 1 *

1946, Moon, Wavell, p. 290) that “Cripps has spent several hours with jlimnli liml
night and said that he had agreed to this.” (By “this” was meant a rneelliiu \v||n
Nehru.) The viceroy later wrote in his journal (Moon, Wavell, p. 202)i Al
3:40 p.m., when I was due to see Nehru and Jinnah at 4 p.m., Crlpps rum* i..
and told me that Jinnah would not come; he had written a letter eai llei in I

that he did not feel he could meet Nehru, unless the parity basis was ... il

With so much changing every hour those days, Wavell obviously I'ouiul II Iih> |
possible to keep clear in his mind the exact sequence of ovonls, even with 'lull)
diary notes.

57. Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VII, p, 806.

58. Ibid., p.867.

59. Ibid.

60. June 13,1946, Moon, Wavell, p. 292.

61. Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VII, p. 910.

62. Moon, Wavell, p. 314.

63. June 14, 1946, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VII, pp. 931-33.

64. Moon, Wavell, p. 294.

65. Ibid., p. 296.

66 . Recora of meeting, June 21, 1946, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VII,
p. 995. Following quotes are from ibid., pp. 996-97.

67. June 23, 1946, ibid., pp. 1012-13. Following quote is ibid., p. 1014.

68 . Ibid., p. 1017. Following quotes are ibid., pp. 1017-18.

69. Ibid., p. 1037.

70. Note by viceroy, June 25, 1946, ibid., p. 1039.

71. Ibid., pp. 1044-47.

72. June 25,1946, Moon, Wavell, p. 306.

CHAPTER 19: BOMBAY TO LONDON (1946)

1. July 28, 1946, Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. II, p. 407.

2. Ibid., pp. 408-11.

3. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. IT, pp. 546-48.

4. Ibid., pp. 548-49. Following quotes are from ibid.

5. Ibid., p. 551. Following quotes are ibid., pp. 551-52.

6. Ibid., pp. 557—58.

7. Ibid., p. 560.

8. Pethick-Lawrence to Wavell, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VIII,

p. 162.

9. Minute by Scott, August 1, 1946, ibid., p. 174.

10. Wavell's minute, ibid., p. 175.

11. Ibid., p. 188.

12. Nehru to Jinnah, August 13, 1946, ibid., p. 238.

13. Jinnah to Nehru, ibid.

14. August 18, 1946, ibid., p. 248.

15. Burrows to Wavell, August 16, 1946, ibid., p. 239.

16. Francis Tuker, While Memory Serves (London: Cassell, 1950), p. 158.

17. Ibid., append. V, pp. 597—98.

18. Ibid., pp. 160-61.

19. Ibid., append. V, pp. 599-600.

20. Ibid., pp. 601-3.

21. Margaret Bourke-White, Halfway To Freedom (New York: Simon &
Schuster, 1949), p. 20.

22. Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, August 21, 1946, Mansergh, Transfer of
Power, vol. VIII, p. 274.

23. Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. II, p. 433.

24. August 24, 1946, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VIII, p. 307.

25. Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. II, p. 444.

26. August 28, 1946, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VIII, p. 322.

27. Ibid., p.323.

28. Ibid., p. 332. The following quote is ibid., p. 334.

29. August 29, 1946, ibid., p. 344.

30. Ahmad, Recent Speeches, vol. II, pp. 423-25.

31. A. I’. I.o Mrsurier’s report, September 2, 1946, Mansergh, Transfer of
Power, vol. VIII. |» 385,

396

NOTES

397

32. Nehru’s broadcast, September 7, 1946, in Dorothy Norman, ed., Nehru:
The First Sixty Years (London: The Bodley Head, 1965), vol. II, pp. 248-51.

33. September 8, 1946, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VIII, pp. 455-59.

34. September 10, 1946, Moon, Wavell, pp. 348-49.

35. Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VIII, p. 478.

36. Record of meeting at 10 Downing Street, September 23, 1946, 10:30 A.M.,
ibid., pp. 570-72. Following quotes are from ibid.

37. Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, September 26, 1946, ibid., p. 588.

38. September 26, 1946, Moon, Wavell, pp. 352-53.

39. Wavell’s note, October 1, 1946, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VIII,
pp. 631-32.

40. “Top Secret Note” of interview with Jinnah, October 2, 1946, ibid., pp,
643-44.

41. Ibid., p. 683.

42. Nehru to Jinnah, October 6, 1946, ibid., p. 671.

43. Jinnah to Nehru, October 7, 1946, ibid., p. 673.

44. October 11,1946, ibid., p. 694.

45. October 11, 1946, Moon, Wavell, p. 356.

46. Wavell’s note, October 12, 1946, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. VIII,
p. 704.

47. Hindustan Times, October 21, 1946, ibid., p. 779n4.

48. Nehru to Wavell, October 23, 1946, ibid., p. 785.

49. Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, October 23, 1946, ibid,, p. 785.

50. October 24, 1946, Moon, Wavell, p. 363.

51. October 30, 1946, ibid., p. 367.

52. Dow to Wavell, November 9, 1946, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vnl,
IX, p. 39.

53. Dawn, November 15, 1946, ibid., pp. 73-75.

54. Ibid., p. 125.

55. November 21, 1946, ibid., p. 128.

56. Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, November 23,1946, ibid., p. 153.

57. Pethick-Lawrence to Wavell, November 27,1946, ibid., p. 187.

58. November 29, 1946, Moon, Wavell, p. 385. The final quote is from flihl,
December 1, 1946.

CHAPTER 20: LONDON-FINAL FAREWELL (1946)

1. Wavell’s note, December 2, 1946, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol, IS
pp. 240-42.

2. Note of conversation with Jinnah by Wyatt, December 3, 1946, ibid., np.
246-47.

3. Cabinet meeting, December 4, 1946, ibid., pp. 252-53.

4. Ibid., pp. 253—55.

5. Cabinet minutes, December 4, 1946, 12:15 p.m., ibid., pp. 260-61.

6. Meeting, December 4, 1946, 10:30 a.m., ibid., pp. 255-56. Following
quotes are from ibid.

7. Ibid., p. 259.

8 . Meeting with Jinnah and Liaquat Ali, ibid., pp. 202-84.

9. Cabinet meeting, 10 Downing Street, December 6, 4:00 p.m., ibid., p "OM

10. Cabinet meeting, 6:00 p.m., p. 297. Following quotes are from ibid
pp. 298-300.

11. Dwarkadns, Ten Years To Freedom, pp. 190 1)1

12. Ibid., p. 102.

13. Parthasarathy, The Hindu, p. 629.

14. Begum Shah Nawaz, “Reminiscences,” in Ahmad, Quaid-i-Azam, p. 99.

15. Parliamentary Debates, House of Commons, Fifth Series, vol. 431, pp.
1175-76. Following quote is from ibid., p. 1178.

16. Ibid., p. 1346.

17. Ibid., pp. 1360-67.

18. Norman, Nehru, vol. II, pp. 278-86.

19. Alan Campbell-Johnson, Mission With Mountbatten (New York: Dutton
& Co., 1953), December 19, 1946, pp. 17-18.

20. Reuter’s “Report of Jinnah’s Meeting in Cairo,” in Atique Z. Sheikh and
M. R. Malik, eds., Quaid-e-Azam and the Muslim World: Selected Documents
(Karachi: Royal Book Co., 1978), p. 166.

21. Cairo, December 20, 1946, ibid., p. 168.

22. Ibid., p. 169.

CHAPTER 21: NEW DELHI (1947)

1. January 2, 1947, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. IX, pp. 444—45.

2. Mountbatten to Attlee, January 3, 1947, ibid., pp. 451-52.

3. Enclosure to No. 304, January 24, 1947, ibid., pp. 542—43.

4. Jenkins to Pethick-Lawrence, January 26, 1947, ibid., p. 557.

5. January 29, 1947, ibid., p. 572.

6. Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, February 1, 1947, ibid., p. 593.

7. Cabinet minutes, February 5, 1947, ibid., p. 618.

8. February 6, 1947, Moon, Wavell, p. 418.

9. “Indian Policy” (Cmd. 7047), February 20, 1947, Mansergh, Transfer of
Power, vol. IX, p. 774.

10. Hindustan Times, February 21, 1947, ibid., pp. 775-76.

11. Dawn, February 21, 1947, ibid., pp. 777-78.

12. Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, February 22, 1947, ibid., pp. 785-86.

13. February 28, 1947, Moon, Wavell, p. 424. For inset, see Mansergh, Trans¬
fer of Power, vol. IX, p. 824n3.

14. Jenkins to Pethick-Lawrence, February 25, 1947, ibid., p. 815.

15. Wavell to Pethick-Lawrence, February 26, 1947, ibid., p. 819, recounting
what had been reported in Caroe to Wavell, February 22, 1947, ibid., p. 788.

16. Jenkins to Wavell, March 3, 1947, ibid., p. 830.

17. Ibid., p. 832.

18. Parliamentary Debates, House of Commons, Fifth Series, March 5, 1947,
vol. 434, pp. 502-5.

19. Ibid., pp. 669-73.

20. Ibid., pp. 673-74.

21. February 28, 1947, Moon, Wavell, p. 424.

22. Jenkins to Wavell, March 7, 1947, Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. IX,
|>, 879.

23. Enclosure of Resolutions Passed, March 8, 1947, ibid., pp. 899-900.

24. Nehru to Wavell, March 9, 1947, ibid., p. 898.

25. M. H. Shahid, ed., Quaid-i-Azam Muhammad Ali Jinnah ( Speeches, State¬
ments, Writings, Letters) (Lahore: Sang-e-Meel Publications, 1976), pp. 50-51.
rim final segment of this quote is from Mansergh, Transfer of Power, vol. IX,
l», 027n3.

26. Jenkins to Wavell, March 10,1947, ibid., p. 912.

27. Baldev Singh to Wavell, March 11, 1947, ibid., pp. 914-16.

28. Cabinet meeting, March 13, 1947, 5:15 p.m., ibid., p. 940.

398

NOTES

29. Krishna Menon to Mountbatten, March 13,1947, ibid., pp. 948-49.

30. Jenkins to Abell, March 17,1947, ibid., p. 962.

31. Ibid., pp. 967—68.

32. Attlee to Mountbatten, March 18, 1947, ibid., pp. 972-74.

33. Minutes of meeting, March 22, 1947, 10:30 p.m., ibid., pp. 1011-12.

34. Campbell-Johnson, Mountbatten, March 23, 1947, p. 41.

35. Parthasarathy, The Hindu, p. 646.

36. Campbell-Johnson, Mountbatten, March 25, 1947, p. 44.

37. Annex I to Mountbatten’s “Personal Report,” no. 2, April 9, 1947, India
Office Library, London, L/P.O./433/31. Hereafter cited Mountbatten’s Personal
Report.

38. Record of Mountbatten-Gandhi interview, April 1, 1947, Mansergh,
Transfer of Power, vol. X, p. 69.

39. Record of Mountbatten-Nehru interview, April 1, 1947, ibid., p. 70.

40. “Top Secret” interview, Mountbatten-Jinnah, April 5-6, 1947, ibid.,

41. Mountbatten’s personal recollection in an interview at his home, summer
of 1978.

42. Record of interviews, April 5 and 6, 1947, Mansergh, Transfer of Power,
vol. X, pp. 138-39.

43. April 7,1947, ibid., p. 149.

44. April 8, 1947, ibid., pp. 159-60.

45. Ibid., p. 164.

46. “Top Secret,” April 11, 1947, ibid., p. 190.

47. Ibid.

48. Ibid.

49. Note by Jenkins, April 16, 1947, ibid., pp. 282-83.

50. Parthasarathy, The Hindu, p. 649.

51. Record of Mountbatten-Liaquat Ali interview, April 10, 1947, Mansergh,
Transfer of Power, vol. X, pp. 331-32.

52. Ibid., p.333.

53. “Top Secret” record of discussion, ibid., p. 349.

54. Record of interview with Krishna Menon, April 22, 1947, ibid., p. 372,
The following quote is from ibid.

55. April 24, 1947, ibid., p. 388. The following quote is from ibid., p. 389.

56. Record of interview with Jinnah, April 26, 1947, ibid., pp. 452-53.

57. Ibid., p. 453. The following quote is from ibid., p. 454.

58. Mievifie to Mountbatten, April 29, 1947, ibid., p. 479.

59. Mountbatten’s Personal Report, No. 5, May 1, 1947, ibid., pp. 537-38.

60. Ibid., p. 540.

61. Mountbatten to Ismay, May 10, 1947, ibid.,p. 776.

62. Nehru to Mountbatten, May 11, 1947, ibid., p. 756.

63. Record of interview with Liaquat Ali, May 15, 1947, ibid., p. 825.

64. Jinnah’s note, May 17, 1947, ibid., pp. 852-53.

65. Cabinet minutes, May 19,1947, ibid., p. 896.

66. Reuter’s report, May 21,1947, p. 929.

67. Cabinet minutes, May 20, 1947, ibid., p. 922.

68. Krishna Menon to Mountbatten, May 21, 1947, ibid., p. 940.

69. Campbell-Johnson, Mountbatten, June 1, 1947, p. 98.

70. Record of Churchill-Mountbatten interview, May 22, .1947, Mansergh,
Transfer of Power, vol. X, pp. 945-46.

71. June 5, 1947, Mountbatten s Personal Report, no. 8, p. 115. Following
quote Is from ibid.

NOTES

399

72. That doodle is reproduced in a photograph in Campbell-Johnson, Mount¬
batten, facing p. 97.

73. June 5, 1947, Mountbatten’s Personal Report, no. 8, p. 117.

74. Campbell-Johnson, Mountbatten, June 3, 1947, pp. 102-3.

75. June 3,1947 Plan, append., ibid., pp. 364-68.

76. Ibid., p. 367.

77. Tinnah’s broadcast of Tune 3, 1947, Shahid, Quaid-i-Azam Speeches, pp.
77-79.

78. June 3, 1947, Campbell-Johnson, Mountbatten, p. 107. Following quote
is from ibid.

79. June 5, 1947, Mountbatten s Personal Report, no. 8, pp. 122 f.

80. Campbell-Johnson, Mountbatten, June 9, 1947, pp. 115-16.

81. Morning Herald, June 10, 1947, and Morning News, June 11, reported
in Pirzada, Foundations, vol. II, pp. 566—67. Following quote is from ibid., p. 567.

82. June 12, 1947, Mountbattens Personal Report, no. 9, p. 125.

83. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. II, p. 568.

84. June 12, 1947, Mountbattens Personal Report, no. 9, p. 125.

85. “The Greatest Betrayal,” Aziz, Rahmat Ali, vol. I, pp. 291—301.

86 . June 12, 1947, Mountbatten’s Personal Report, no. 9, p. 127.

CHAPTER 22: KARACHI—“PAKISTAN ZINDABAD” (1947)

1. June 27, 1947, Mountbattens Personal Report, no. 10, p. 139.

2. July 4,1947, ibid., no. 11, p. 160.

3. Parliamentary Debates , House of Commons, Fifth Series, vol. 440, pp.
227-29. The Attlee quote is from ibid., pp. 283-84.

4. July 13,1947, Shahid, Quaid-i-Azam Speeches, p. 82.

5. Penderel Moon, Divide and Quit (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of
California Press, 1962), p. 88 (Deletion in original).

6 . July 25, 1947, Mountbatten’s Personal Report, no. 14, pp. 202-3.

7. Campbell-Johnson, Mountbatten, July 26, 1947, p. 143.

8 . August 8, 1947, Mountbatten’s Personal Report, no. 16, p. 228.

9. Ibid., pp. 233-34.

10. Karachi Club, August 9, 1947, Speeches of Quaid-i-Azam Mohammad Ali
Jinnah as Governor General of Pakistan (Karachi: Sind Observer Press, 1948),
pp. 4-5.

11. August 11, 1947, ibid., p. 6.

12. Ibid., pp. 7—9.

13. Ibid., pp. 9-10.

14. Ibid., p. 10.

15. Ibid.

16. August 16, 1947, Mountbatten’s Personal Report, no. 17, p. 247.

17. Campbell-Johnson, Mountbatten, August 13, 1947, p. 154. Following
quote is from ibid., p. 155.

18. August 13, 1947, Speeches of Quaid-i-Azam, p. 11. Following quote is
from ibid.

19. August 16, 1947, Mountbatten’s Personal Report, no. 17, p. 249.

20. August 14, 1947, Speeches of Quaid-i-Azam, pp. 14-15.

21. Campbell-Johnson, Mountbatten, August 14, 1947, p. 156.

22. Mountbatten’s recollection to the author in the Summer of 1978.

23. Norman, Nehru, vol. II, p. 336.

24. Speeches of Quaid-i-Azam, p. 16.

25. Jinnah, "My Brother.”

400

NOTES

26. Begum Shah Nawaz, “The Quaid As I Knew Him,” in Quaid-i-Azam and
Muslim Women, p. 18.

27. Campbell-Johnson, Mountbatten, August 30, 1947, p. 176.

28. Ibid., September 8, 1947, p. 183.

29. Mir Laik Ali, “Reminiscences of the Quaid,” in Ahmad, Jinnah, pp. 61-70.

30. Ispahani to Jinnah, September 19, 1947, Zaidi, Correspondence, pp.
525-26.

31. Jinnah to Ispahani, October 1, 1947, ibid., p. 569.

32. Master Tara Singh reportedly said, “This is War,” by September 12, 1947,
Campbell-Johnson, Mountbatten, p. 188.

33. Ibid., September 14, 1947, p. 190. Following quotes are from ibid., pp.
190-94.

34. Ibid., September 29, 1947, p. 210.

35. November 7, 1947, Mountbattens Personal Report, p. 339.

36. Ibid., p. 340. The following quote is from ibid., p. 341.

37. Mehr Chand Mahajan, Looking Back (London: Asia Publishing House,
1963), pp. 151-52. Following quotes are from ibid., pp. 152-54.

38. V. P. Menon, The Story of the Integration of the Indian States (London:
Longman, Green & Co., 1956), pp. 399—400.

39. Mountbatten’s polo term for his Viceroyalty, mentioned in his letter lo
King George VI on the eve of his acceptance, January 4, 1947, Mansergh, Tram -
fer of Power, vol. IX, pp. 5452-54.

40. November 7, 1947, Mountbatten s Personal Report, p. 342. The following
quotes are from ibid.

41. Menon, Integration of States, p. 400.

42. Mahajan, Looking Back, p. 154.

43. November 7, 1947, Mountbatten’s Personal Reports, p. 343.

44. John Connell, Auchinleck (London: Cassell, 1959), p. 931.

45. Ibid. The following quote is from ibid.

46. November 7, 1947, Mountbatten s Personal Report, p. 343.

47. Ibid., p. 347. Following quotes are from ibid.

48. Ibid., pp. 347-52.

49. Ibid.

50. Campbell-Johnson, Mountbatten, October 27, 1947, pp. 221-22.

51. “The Tasks Ahead,” October 30, 1947, Speeches of Quaid-i-Azam, ftp
29-30.

52. Jinnah, “My Brother.”

CHAPTER 23: ZIARAT (1948)

1. Pirzada, Foundations, vol. II, p. 569. Following quotes are from Ibid,,
p. 571.

2. Ibid., pp. 573-74.

3. Menon, Integration of States, p. 410.

4. S. L. Poplai, ed., India, 1947-50 (London: Oxford University Press, I DIM)),
vol. II, p. 345.

5. January 15, 1948, ibid., pp. 351-52. Following quotes are from ibid., pp
352-53.

6. Ibid., pp. 353-58.

7. January 23, 1948, Speeches of Quaid-i-Azam, pp. 58-00.

8. M. K. Gandhi, Delhi Diary (Ahmodiihiul: Nuvujlviui Publishing IIoiinp,
1048),pp. 390-92.

9. Campbell-Johnson, Mnuullxitten, February B, 1948, p. 283.

NOTES

401

10. Indian Affairs (London, March 4, 1948), vol. VII, no. 5, p. 1.

11. Ispahani to Jinnah, March 31, 1948, Zaidi, Correspondence, p. 582.

12. Bolitho, Jinnah, p. 210.

13. March 21, 1948, Quaid-e-Azam Speaks: Speeches of Quaid-e-Azam
Mohammad Ali Jinnah (Karachi: Ministry of Information & Broadcasting, 1950),
p. 133.

14. Ibid., pp. 133-36.

15. Jinnah, “My Brother.”

16. S. S. Pirzada, “The Last Days of Quaid-i-Azam,” The Pakistan Times,
October 17, 1979. A typescript of this memoir written by Pakistan’s Minister of
Justice was given to the author in Islamabad in 1980.

17. Sir Francis (“Frank”) Mudie’s “Report” was dictated shortly before his
death and is preserved at the India Office Library in London, MSS EUR, 33.

18. Ibid -

10. Jinnah, “My Brother.”

20. June 14, 1948, Quaid-e-Azam Speaks, pp. 154-55.

21. “Provincialism, A Curse,” June 15, 1948, ibid., pp. 156-58.

22. Jinnah, “My Brother.” The following quotes are from ibid.

23. Ilahi Bakhsh, With the Quaid-i-Azam During His Last Days (Karachi:
Quaid-i-Azam Academy, 1978), p. 2. The following quotes are from ibid., pp. 3-5.

24. Ibid., p. 5.

25. Ibid., p. 8. The following quotes are from ibid., pp. 9-10.

26. Pirzada, “Last Days of the Quaid,” p. 6.

27. Bakhsh, Last Days, p. 11. The following quote is from ibid., p. 15.

28. Jinnah, “My Brother.”

29. Bakhsh, Last Days, pp. 18—19.

30. August 14, 1948, Quaid-e-Azam Speaks, pp. 247-49.

31. Bakhsh, Last Days, p. 24. The following quote is from ibid., p. 25.

32. Ibid., p. 26.

33. Ibid., pp. 28-31.

34. Ibid., pp. 32-33.

35. Wire no. 405, September 1948, Zaidi, Correspondence, p. 617.

36. Bakhsh, Last Days, p. 40.

37. Jinnah, “My Brother.”

38. Ibid.

39. Bakhsh, Last Days, pp. 47-48.

40. Jinnah, “My Brother.”

41. Chagla, Roses in December, p. 120.

42. Lady Rama Rao’s recollection in an interview with the author in Los
Angeles, 1979.

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